Thursday, November 18, 2010

Santa Blues

Santa Blues

(Daddy, is Santa real? Oh, Daddy, is Santa real?)

Son, Santa lived,
But Santa died
He was shot down right out of the sky,
Over East L.A. in '95
By a bunch of Crips, while in the midst
Of a Christmas Morning sleigh-ride-by...

Pushing all the bounds of fashion
Dressed all in Red with White-furred trim
Stocking cap, Ho-Ho-Ho's
Big-buckled belt and lumps of coal
Trespassing was his only sin
A fashion faux pas did him in

(It was a fashionista’s teachable moment)

Was it The Grinch who sold
The Crips that rocket launcher?
The graffiti'd missile found the steam
Off Rudolf's button-nose... and blew
The whole damn sleigh, presents and all
To hell or where bad children go

As he fell, this hero of rotundity,
This bright-red savior of the milk and cookies set,
Shouted "Merry Christmas, Peace on Earth,
The whole wide world's my bloody turf"=
Including all that's tagged with blue spray paint
And the airspace over East L.A."

And so my Son, the moral of the story,
For there is always at least one of those,
Is Look for the unspoken rules and lines
And notice when they change
And do not cross without good cause
And always look down-range
And best not be a fashion horse
Safety first and stay the course
Stick to brown and green
They're not so easy seen

(Repeat 1st Verse)

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