• Christmas is coming, the children are running.
    Towards the tree, the presents they see.

    Wrappers are ripping, and eyes are dripping.
    With tears of joy, coz of their brand new toy.

    Parents they have not, but have not forgot.
    They still hope, and that's how they cope.

    Instead of wishing for more, they just adore.
    Each of their presents, without any protestants.

    I smile with glee, when they look at me.
    With such real gratitude, and don't give me attitude.

    I now have to go, sadly I know.
    So they give me kisses, for this wonderful Christmas.