UnTunes:Twas A Brat Before Christmas
|Main Page||Playlist||Requests||Artists||Support||Sing My Song||Random|
Do all those annoying unrealistic Christmas songs get you down? Want something closer to reality?
Well just listen anyway...
Twas A Brat Before Christmas
Twas the morning of Christmas: all hell had broke loose
Little Tommy was shouting and screaming abuse
The stockings were flung cross the room with great force
That bastard St. Nick had screwed up - of course!
The iPod expected was not to be found
The Xbox 360? 'Twas nowhere around
A present lay open, but he couldn't look
For it was (huh) JUST A DUMB FREAKIN' BOOK!
With writing and binding, an index and pages
Tommy yelled, "What the F? Is this the middle ages?
I can't even sell it for favours or cash"
And so, with a flourish, it went in the trash
Composure returned; twenty eight gifts to go!
Tommy tore at a box like a smack-addled ho
He shrieked, closed his eyes (his pants, so wet)
What a blood-curdling sight - a JUNIOR PAINT SET!
With a mouth dry of saliva, and a tum full of sick
Tom thought hard about pistol-whipping St. Nick
Or finding his sleigh and "adjusting" the brakes
And to finish a dinner of fine reindeer steaks!
No cellphone! No Nikes! No damn MP3!
A sweater! Some mittens! A jacket, so crappy!
Tommy climbed on the roof and he started to shout
"Hey Santa Claus! Santa Claus! SORT THIS SHIT OUT!"
"I've done all my homework the best that I can,
Only ONCE did I send my sis to Japan
The cat didn't need BOTH its ears, I surmised,
So the crappiness of these gifts has me surprised!"
"I made me a list and I checked it ten times
Created a website and put it online
Twenty billboards were hired; a sky-writer or three
Even Leno gave me a quick plug on TV"
So began Tommy's mad anti-Santa tirade
"When I'm eighteen, an ant-farm won't help me get laid!
I really must ask, Santa, what kind of dick,
When I ask for a skateboard, brings a Pogo Stick?"
"I thought you were clever, I thought you were funky
But now, I'd have more confidence in a monkey!
You've got a weight problem; your dress sense is wack
And the beard makes you look like a hobo on crack"
"You live in an igloo, and hang out with elves
Who I'd guess (by their smiles) like to pleasure themselves
I've had it with Christmas, so next year I'm gonna,
Change my name, and hook up with Madonna!"
In the midst of his rant, Tommy boy heard a sound
And a nicotine-stained, sweaty hand turned him round
Kris Kringle stood there, and with whisky-dulled slur
He bellowed "You nasty, ungrateful young CUR!"
"You think I enjoy all these hours of graft?
And squeezing my huge ass down some chimney shaft?
I'm tired and cranky, you arrogant pup
So, if you'd be so kind. JUST SHUT THE F*** UP!"
He sprang to his sleigh with a leap that was so swift
And took off, burying Tommy in a snow-drift
And we heard him exclaim, as a big grin he flashed
"Happy Kwanzaa to all, now I'm off to get SMASHED!!"
Vocals: Someone who'd be so kind
Tune: Twas the Night Before Christmas