"New Christmas Songs"

STRANDED IN A WINTER WONDERLAND
(To the tune of "Walkin' in a Winter Wonderland")

Cell phones ring, are you listenin'?
People moanin' and a-pissin'
Our trust in United, was somewhat short-sighted
Stranded in a winter wonderland.

In the meadow they can build a runway
All employees will have phony smiles
We'll say, "Are you flying?" They'll say "No way."
"And you just lost your Frequent Flier Miles."

Later on we'll bemoan
Get the boss on the phone
We're stuck here tonight, there aren't any flights
Stranded in a winter wonderland.

HAVE A MELANCHOLY CHRISTMAS
(To the tune of "Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas")

Have a melancholy Christmas
It's a bleak time of the year
I'll sit around feeling all depressed
Drinking lots of beer
It was better when I was younger
Now I'm old and square
So I wander the house drinking rum and coke
In my dingy underwear

Oh, ho, the mistletoe
I wonder if I can smoke it?
No one would kiss me anyway
So I just stay home and stroke it.
I guess it could be worse
At least it's not my birthday
So have a melancholy Christmas
It's a messed up holiday!

A GAY IN A MANGER
(To the tune of "Away in a Manger")

A gay in a manger, no crib for his bed
Our savior has realized he likes guys instead
The signs were all there, what the hell did you think
"Love your brother," nudge nudge, wink wink

He hung out with 12 guys and forgave and forgat
(Not that there's anything wrong with that)
I pray that my theory the world will embrace
Just to see the look on Pat Robertson's face.

IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE AN ISTHMUS
(To the tune of "It's Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas")

It's beginning to look a lot like an isthmus
Every time I check
My hair just stopped growing on the top
But I still have to shave my neck

It's beginning to look a lot like an isthmus
Curse this family gene
Though it's no surprise, now I realize
I'm no longer nineteen

LITTLE BOMBER BOY
(To the tune of "Little Drummer Boy")

Come and let us drop
A-Bomb-on-Saddam
Although I'm not sure why
A-Bomb-on-Saddam
Cause Dubbya's all riled up
A-Bomb-on-Saddam
Bomb-on-Saddam
Bomb-on-Saddam

We couldn't seem to drop
A-Bomb-on-Osama
Instead we bombed some people
Wearing-pajamas
Oh, hell, let's drop a bomb on
All-of-Islama
Yokahama
The Dalai Lama

When all of THEM are dead, drop
A-Bomb-on-my-mom
And while you're at it why not
On-my-friend-Tom
They're called preemptive strikes, let's
Bomb-Every-One
Bomb-Every-One
Bomb-Every-One
Then we'll be done...

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