As Santa looks up into the wintry night.
He worries about children mixed up in man’s latest fight.
The sound of distant drums around the land, make it impossible to take a stand.
Santa looked in the mirror in total dismay, Rudolph with his nose so bright will not guide my sleigh that night.
Man has really no one to thank, I will deliver the children’s toys in my army tank.
Wars are slow and food banks low, employment insurance is no way to go.
People are taxed and plenty are axed and no way on earth they can say Ho Ho.
Politicians sing carols as they stand at the trough, while poor homeless people get their first winter cough.
Open up your pockets and give back that raise, this may awaken people out of a daze
Santa will try his best without his sled and God will be co-pilot in the tank instead.
Even Santa’s wonderful tradition, could be near the end of a final edition.