by Ruth Sockett

I have not wrapped a present and the paper's disappeared.
The children are hysterical, they just found Santa's beard.

The baby ate a Christmas ball, there's eggnog in my tea
Daddy's chasing mistletoe, he swings from tree to tree.

Susan's changed her mind about the doll that walks and talks
Now she wants a simple thing, a real live horse that talks.

I just got back my Christmas cards that gave me writer's cramp
I didn't forget a single soul, I just forgot the stamps.

So, Santa, when you do get here and find beneath the tree,
A poor lost soul without a mind, be nice, for it is me!!