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Christmas No.1
03:47
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October the 13th, the tinsel's emerging,
The loud speaker's playing those 12 songs again.
We'll all take a seat up on Santa's knee,
and tell him the hollow things of which we dream.
The snow is falling, the fire's burning,
We're patiently waiting, for the credit bills to roll in.
But the kids are all laughing and singing and playing
While the elves are at work in a factory in Beijing.
Let's go to the building of perpetual night,
Where there's blood on the walls of these disease ridden tykes,
And they're not the only ones who work through the night,
As rats feed on their feet like the fleas on their mites.
But don't you worry, there's a safety net,
So when elves jump from the roofs, they don't quite fall to their deaths.
And it's "Dry your eyes, in three days you can rest,
These gifts don't make themselves, get back to your desk."
Shackled in supply chains, the elves go insane.
They might as well be bred in captivity.
"Good will and peace on earth" these kind words merely serve,
To reinforce our self worth with meaningless mantras.
It's the gift for the man whose got everything,
More blood for their hands, more toys for dolphins.
If you've got no money, well, don't you worry,
We'll get some off you someday, the sale starts Monday...
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