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kev's klassic kristmas - kevin bloody wilson lyrics

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quite often i get the thinkin’, how as kids we got buy,
like at christmas time at our house, we couldn’t even afford a fire,
but we made do with what we had back then when i was young,
dad used to suck a peppermint and we’d all sit around his tongue,
we couldn’t afford no fancy tinsel for our christmas tree,
so we’d just wheel our grandad in and make the old c-nt sneeze,
(aahh aahh aahh ah pprroooh) wheel him round the other side nana,
but things change pretty bl–dy quick i got kids now’a me own,
and i heard ’em unwrap their pressies, last night when i got home.

hey santa claus you c-nt, where’s me f-ckin’ bike?
i’ve unwrapped all this other junk and there’s nothin’ that i like,
i wrote you a bl–dy letter, and i come to see you twice,
you worn out geriatric fart you forgot me f-ckin’ bike.

ho ho f-cking ho what a croc’a sh-t,
we all work for santa claus we’ve had enough we quit,
’cause we do all the f-ckin’ work while he stars in the show,
stick your christmas up your -ss ho ho f-cking ho.

we’re santa’s f-ckin’ roadies, santa’s f-ckin’ roadies,
we got a gig at christmas time helpin’ santa claus,
we’re santa’s f-ckin’ roadies, santa’s f-ckin’ roadies.
it’s christmas time so stock up the fridge and lock up your dope and
daughters.

a party ain’t a party ’til the rellies have arrived and it ain’t even
christmas,
’til you kissed your nana on the gummy ol’ mouth and you pulled
your grandad’s finger. (oohhh)

next time i come to see you i’m gonna punch you in the guts,
and i’ll let your f-ckin’ reindeer loose kick rudolph in the nuts,
you just wait ’til next year when you get back to that store,
and me and me little sister, come stompin’ through the door and we’ll
say,
“hey moms and dads just smell his breath and check his bloodshot
eyes,
and don’t listen to him boys and girls ’cause he tells f-ckin’ lies,
he’s just a p-ss tank and a pervert, and he’s not even very bright,
’cause the ol’ f-ckin’ w-nker, forgot me f-ckin’ bike.

hey santa claus you c-nt, where’s me f-ckin’ bike?
i’ve unwrapped all this other junk and there’s nothin’ that i like,
i wrote you a bl–dy letter, and i come to see you twice,
you worn out geriatric fart you forgot me f-ckin’ bike.

hey santa claus you c-nt, where’s me f-ckin’ bike?
i’ve unwrapped all this other junk and there’s nothin’ that i like,
i wrote you a bl–dy letter, and i come to see you twice,
you worn out geriatric fart you forgot me f-ckin’ bike.

i’ll rob you in you old c-nt, i’ll tell me ol’ man on you,
punch your f-ckin’ lights out,
i saw mommy sucking santa claus.

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