Bad Santa

It was the night before the night before Christmas
My geese were getting fat

I dug out my gloves
and my old red velvet hat

It looked like it was time again
To get the reindeer out

To take the sleigh and presents up
And deliver them all about

But what was that, that clinking sound
I hear as I mount my sled

The sound of whisky being poured
Bugger It, I'll just stay home instead