A Christmas Wish

Now I have heard, (they say it's true)
That Santa's stuck down someone's flue.
It seems he made a practice trip
Just to see if he'd still fit,
Inside a chimney dark and black,
Because he's getting much too fat.
Well, he got down the thing all right,
Although he found it rather tight

But just as he was climbing up,
Through all the dirt and grime and soot,
He couldn't move another foot,
'Cause he was stuck.

This state of things seems quite bizarre,
But I'm afraid that's how things are
And if someone can't get him out,
Then Christmas cheer is up the spout.

Just think of all those girls and boys,
No Santa Claus, no Christmas toys,
No bikes in quiet suburban street
To knock old people off their feet,
No space age toys in frenzied clatter
That bloop and bleep electronic chatter,
No screaming kids in noisy riot,
A Christmas Day that's dull and quiet.

I say, I think this could be bliss,
Let's leave the old boy where he is.