Pantophobia
Actually, Lucy, my trouble is Christmas
I just don't understand it
Instead of feeling happy, I feel sort of let down
You need involvement
You need to get involved in some real Christmas project
How would you like to be the director of our Christmas play?
Me? You want me to be the director of the Christmas play?
My feet slower to hit the floor morning, I'm groaning
I don't wanna go
A lot snow, it's too cold
I don't wanna know
The temperature, can be sure from my breath, it's a brr
I much prefer the warmth, but now December hurr
End of overture
I remember the conversation with Lucy saying
Christmas is commercialization
An operation ran by the eastern syndicate
But don't spoil Santa Clause for all the little kids
It's super innocent
Check your chimney, man
You need to get it swept
I think something really wrong with me, Linus
I caught a virus or something
Christmas is coming, I ain't running 'round decking the halls
Presents get bought for the friends and the boss
Sending 'em cards, wishes, regards
Red ribbons on cars
A Benz or Lexus is parked
In the driveway
I say it's all so bizarre 'cause
Maybe it's pantophobia
Even though the zodiac told me three homies showing up
To show mad love to Joe's son
They giving out gold
And oil, incense it's lit
What they getting for the kids as gifts
Shouts to St. Nick
Stacking up box of clothes
Socks to go, closets get stocked with hope
Of a Nintendo
'Cause the friend next door
He's only ten but he's always on internet
Getting fed info that he ain't even fact check
And he got sneakers on, they ain't even out yet
How can I combat that?
Maybe he should ask his dad
But his dad be in debt so bad
Like dog, that's pretty bad
So much for all the ho ho hoes, who's getting dough?
Don't you know we broke? (Bitch, we broke)
Where's my Christmas miracle?
I want a shiny vehicle
Power steer, rear wheel clear and the ceiling fold
Man, it's a shame, I be stuck with all these reindeer
Man, it's the same dude last year as this year
The year before that I was bad
That's the past here
And right now man, that's really all that matters
Mad cheers, I'm drunk
Sugar plum, rum punch, bah hum bug
Man, enough with all that fun stuff, she sung
(Maybe you have pantophobia)