Hawkman
12-24-2010, 06:22 AM
I am the ghost of Christmas past
and in the snow I dwell
in 47 I had fun
and 63 as well.
but in this last millennium
I’ve up and slipped my chains
and carpeted the countryside
in freezing white again.
On backstreets in the urban sprawls
I’ve glazed the roads with ice
so insurance underwriters
call me names, which isn’t nice.
The beds in all the hospitals
are crammed with broken hips
and H5N1 fills the morgues
which thrills virologists to bits.
But don’t forget it’s Christmas Eve
just hang your stocking high,
as Santa drives a flying sleigh
I’m sure he’ll still come by.
So season’s greetings to you all,
don’t fret or be despondent,
just slaughter lots of turkeys
and overdose on fondant.
and in the snow I dwell
in 47 I had fun
and 63 as well.
but in this last millennium
I’ve up and slipped my chains
and carpeted the countryside
in freezing white again.
On backstreets in the urban sprawls
I’ve glazed the roads with ice
so insurance underwriters
call me names, which isn’t nice.
The beds in all the hospitals
are crammed with broken hips
and H5N1 fills the morgues
which thrills virologists to bits.
But don’t forget it’s Christmas Eve
just hang your stocking high,
as Santa drives a flying sleigh
I’m sure he’ll still come by.
So season’s greetings to you all,
don’t fret or be despondent,
just slaughter lots of turkeys
and overdose on fondant.