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-Merk Squad-
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Damn that man,
he's let me down, each Christmas morning, I only frown. He leaves a mess of soot and crumbs and fingerprints from his grimy thumbs. He breaks the fireplace every year, one time he'll get stuck, is what I fear. Never ever, do I see, what I asked for, under the tree! He's just a fat ass, dressed in red. Who breaks in the house, while we are in bed! I've had my concerns, that he's stealing us blind. For there's things missing, I cannot find! The cookie jar, the big box of sweets, the entire roast and the Christmas treats! The honeyed ham, the silverware, and the crystal glasses aren't anywhere! The cd collection, the stereo, all are gone, so where did they go? He empties his bag, is what I think, then fills it again, to the brink. Then off he flies, like all is merry. It should be, for he stole, the big bottle of Sherry! I don't get his logic or his way of thinking. And not for a moment am I fooled, by his eyes, a'twinkling! He's running a scam! Its the truth I say! For I just saw my stuff, listed on e-bay! ![]() |
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