キー: Ab major•
Verse 1
poem I want to do.
because they're so daggum
political correct
that Christmas time, it
irritates me.
Towards the night before Christmas,
when all to the house,
not a creature was stirring,
because the political correctors
done
made everybody have a holiday party
and took the frickin' fun out
of everything.
And me and my camo undershorts,
and Mom in her Quigley Down
Under Tom Selleck T -shirt,
caroled to ourselves in our living room
because we was afraid some anti
-Jesus moron
might hear us singing joy
to the world the Lord has come
and might get the ACLU
to sue us
cuz we singing about Jesus
When out on the window
I heard such a clatter
that I called 9 -1 -1
cuz ever since they made me
get a gun lock from a pistol
I can't shoot the frickin
thing
it have been robbed six times
by some scumbag was just let out
of jail for good behavior
when what to my wondering eyes
did appear
but a cop doing an illegal search
and seizure
because the gay neighbor next door seen me fly a
rebel flag from my truck
and he thought I was in the Klan
Little wussy.
You know what the hell with this poem.
Merry Christmas you political crickters
and may you burn in hell
for turning this once great country
into a world of uptight, non -smoking, anti -Jesus,
Eb
Ab
anti -gun, tofu -eating, tree -hugging commies.
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