How The Communists Ruined Christmas
'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 creed
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
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 realized
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
Cómo los comunistas arruinaron la Navidad
Era la noche antes de Navidad
Y en toda la casa
Ninguna criatura se atrevió a discrepar
Sí, ni siquiera un ratón
Con su dogma comunista
Con su credo soviético
Aquí no hay decoraciones navideñas
No hay regalos debajo del árbol
Por la chimenea
Vino Karl Marx vestido con un traje de Navidad padre
Sonriendo ampliamente
Cara podrida, barba que fluye, nieve en sus botas
Nieve en sus botas
Dijo que reunieran a los niños
Tengo un secreto que contar
Sé que me has seguido fielmente hasta aquí
Pero la verdad está bien
Debes haber pensado que estaba bromeando
Que yo estaba meando
Todos dicen que soy un genio
Pero un genio nunca querría esto
Garantiza el sueño
Triturar hasta que todo sea una diatriba de decadencia
La gente alimentaba cosas
Condone y no obedezcan
Siempre termina igual
Y el pequeño Vladimir
Y el pequeño Josef
Y el pequeño fidel
Y el pequeño mau
Y el pequeño che
Todos se dieron cuenta
Parecen idiotas
Y todo lo que habían construido ahora se está escapando
Y es por eso que
Decidieron
Para matar a Karl
Y quemar su maldito cuerpo
Le sacan los sesos y esparcen sus restos
Cuéntanos cómo no es Papá Noel
Le sacan los sesos y esparcen sus restos
Cuéntanos cómo no es Papá Noel
Le sacan los sesos y esparcen sus restos
Cuéntanos cómo no es Papá Noel
Le sacan los sesos y esparcen sus restos
Cuéntanos cómo no es Santa Claus