Christmas

O COME, all ye fretful,

Joyless and reluctant,

O come ye, O come ye to Bloomingdale’s;

Commercialize him,

Born the King of Christmas;

2 Sing, cash registers,

Sing about extortion,

Sing all ye merchants in the Christmas rush;

Glory in volume,

And gross profit margins;

3 See all those Boomers,

Summoned by Saint Nicholas,

They borrow money, to buy kiddie presents;

We too will thither,

Bringing credit cards;

4 Yea, Lord, we bought thee,

Born this high-priced morning;

Jesus, to thee be fortunes given;

Stock in your business,

Now is upward trending.

So there.

THE snow lay on the ground,

The stars looked good,

When Jesus Christ was born,

In Hollywood.

Venite applaudemus

Idolum ;

Venite applaudemus

Idolum.

|| Venite applaudemus Idolum. ||

2 The sets were really fine,

The crèche glowed great,

When extras wandered in

The back lot gate.

It must have been like this,

But not so fake:

Or why would they produce

All these remakes?

So there.