The Little Drummer Boy

Christmas makes me sore, parumpumpumpum
It’s only half past four, parumpumpumpum
But I can sleep no more, parumpumpumpum
The little boy next door, parumpumpumpum rumpumpumpum rumpumpumpum,
Has a new drum.

Why did Santa bring, parumpumpumpum
Such a confounded thing, parumpumpumpum
His neck I’d like to wring, parumpumpumpum
Can’t hear the angels sing, parumpumpumpum rumpumpumpum rumpumpumpum,
Over that drum.

Isn’t this a bore, parumpumpumpum
Can’t take it any more, parumpumpumpum
This is a state of war, parumpumpumpum
I’m going to go next door, parumpumpumpum rumpumpumpum rumpumpumpum,
With my gun.

Wet Christmas

The sun is shining, the grass is brown
The water has gone away
There’s never been such a day in Beverly Hills, L.A.
This drought has lasted for far too long,   and so we’re going to sing this song….

We’re dreaming of a wet Christmas
Just like in Portland, Oregon
Where the skies are foggy, the ground is soggy
And all the sprinkler bans are gone

We’re dreaming of a wet Christmas
With every Christmas card we get
May it be the rainiest yet
And may all your Christmases be wet.