lirik lagu hey santa claus – kevin bloody wilson
quite often i get to thinking how as kids we got by
like at christmas time at our house we couldn’t even afford a fire
quite often i get to thinking how as kids we got by
like at christmas time at our house we couldn’t even afford a fire
but we made do with what we had back then when i was young
dad used to suck a peppermint and we’d all sit around his tongue
we couldn’t afford no sparkling tinsel for our christmas tree
so we’d just wheel old granddad in and make the old c-nt sneeze
(ahh-choo… wheel him round the other side nanna)
but things changed pretty bl–dy quick, i’ve got kids now of me own
and i heard ’em unwrap their pressies, last night when i got home
hey santa claus you c-nt, where’s me f-ckin’ bike?
i’ve unwrapped all this other junk and there’s nothing that i like
i wrote you a f-ckin’ letter and i come to see you twice
you worn out geriatric fart, you forgot me f-ckin’ bike
if i’d a’ wanted a pair of bl–dy thongs, i would have bl–dy asked
and this cowboy suit and ping pong set you can shove right up your -rs-
you’ve stuffed me bl–dy order up, it’s enough to make you spew
but it’s not just me who’s snakey, me sister’s dirty too
hey santa clause you c-nt, where’s me f-ckin’ pram?
you promised me you’d bring me one, you remember who i am
cause i’m the little girl what you made sit right on your hand
i’ll give you f-ckin’ ho ho ho, you forgot me f-cking pram
next time i come to see ya i’m gonna punch you in the guts
and i’ll let your f-ckin’ reindeer go and kick rudolf in the nuts
you just wait til next year, when you get back to that store
and me and me little sister come stomping through the door
and we’ll say, yeah you wait for it:
hey mum’s and dad’s you smell his breath and check his bloodshot eyes
and don’t listen to him boys and girls cause he tells f-cking lies
he’s just a p-ss tank and a pervert, and he’s not even very bright
cause the old f-ckin’ w-nker forgot me f-ckin’ bike
hey santa claus you c-nt, where’s me f-ckin’ bike?
i’ve unwrapped all this other junk and there’s nothing that i like
i wrote you a f-ckin’ letter and i come to see you twice
you worn out geriatric fart, you forgot me f-ckin’ bike
f-ckin’ dob you in you old c-nt
tell me old man on you, he’ll punch your f-ckin’ lights out
i saw mummy sucking santa claus
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