Christmas creeps closer,
With each day the pressure builds,
With advertising.
Sulking Bumhole Bump,
Let’s them die without a word,
To show that he cares.
The day started dark,
Heavy with black, rain filled skies,
That emptied by noon.
I am sleeping now,
And this is only a dream,
The can write itsself.
I travel on Z’s
Pulling me warmly under,
Such a dreamy spell.
