Dot calm, dark Santa.


Ho. Ho.

He sees you when you’re sweeping,

He knows when you eat cake,

So quit your silly creeping.

Don’t leave crumbs and don’t you take

More than half of that last piece.

It’s not rocket surgery,

You know that Santa sees you,

And bumble bees are Santa’s eyes,

They spot every foolery,

Doesn’t matter what you do.

And so you know, word to the wise

Sewn in the sleeves of Santa’s fleece,

The NSA has trackers;

And pays off nine elf hackers.

So keep your secrets in the cloud,

And don’t you ever think out loud.

Blame it all on Christmas fright

I’m wishing everyone good knight.