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The man with the beard

He brings me fear

Not joy like he brings to the others

I watched my parents

Die at his hand

Tonight he's going to take another

Christmas eve

A night of bliss

But not for those who have been naughty

Your punishment

Violent it is

Tonight I start stacking the bodies

Home to home

Butcher the bad

Spare the good

Yuletide body bags

Death to all

The naughty ones

I put an end

To their sick fun

No gifts for you

Under the tree

The last thing you

Will see is me

Leaving the bodies

Trailing to the

Orphanage where

I was abused

A cheerful time

Riddled with fear

The naughty ones

Your end is near