'Twas the night before Christmas
And all throughout the house
Not a creature dared disagree
Yeah, not even a mouse

With their communist Dogma
With their Soviet greed
No Christmas decorations here
No presents under the tree

Down the chimney
Came Karl Marx dressed in a Father Christmas suit

Smiling broadly
Rotting face, flowing beard, snow on his boots
Snow on his boots

He said gather round children
I have a secret to tell
I know you've followed me faithfully this far
But the truth is well

You must have thought I was joking
That I was taking the piss
You all claim to think I'm a genius
But a genius would never want this

Guarantee the dream
Grinding down until it's all a tirade of decay

People fed stuff
Little children don't condone and they don't obey

It always ends the same

And little Vladimir
And little Josef
And little Fidel
And little Mau
And little Che
They all realised
They look like dickheads
And everything they had built now is slipping away

And that's why
They decided
To kill Karl
And burn his fucking body

They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Father Christmas

They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Father Christmas

They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Father Christmas

They blow out his brains and they scatter his remains
Tell us all how it's not Santa Claus


Lyrics submitted by darkeyelewj

How the Communists Ruined Christmas song meanings
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