Wacky Carols

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Evil knight, wholly night,
Vests his dough in a young nerd bright.
Even so, the malevolent childe
Loses his shirt in a downturn mild,
Yielding his sword and his piece.
Now we will never have peace.

Angels often herd on high,
Nodding nimbly all the day.
God says little in reply,
Echoing what actors say:
Less is more-o-o-o-o-or-o-o-o-o-or-o-o-o-o-oria,
As one seeks my way-o,
Less is more-o-o-o-o-or-o-o-o-o-or-o-o-o-o-oria,
As one seeks my way-ay-o.

There is no well, the angels did say,
In search of a hot tub in which they might play,
Nor mo-ore than one bloke to manage the sheep,
A lover of Oprah, demented but deep.
No well, no well, no well, no well,
We need a hot tub in Israel,
No well, no well, no well, no well,
We need a hot tub in Israel!

Praised be the shoppers, toyful and triumphant,
And the package tourists bound for the Caribbean.
Underneath their passions, they would all be angels,
Hoping to adore Him,
Hoping to adore Him,
Hoping to adore Him,
While serving other Lords.

Give us what we're asking for, or we will you dismay.
In Heaven God may reign, but we want toys on Christmas Day!
Unless you do, some things you cherish well might go astray,
Like that Longines watch that long has been your joy, long your joy,
If you don't give in, you just might lose your toy!



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