Wating For Santa

My stockings all hung
And waiting for Saint Nick
The cookies are made
And the milk is all poured

I have no chimney...
He'll have to come through the door
I put Jimmy-dog in our bedroom
Cause... he would eat all the cookies
And leave only crumbs on the floor

And from the looks of old Santa
So jolly and fat
I put a lock on my fridge
And I know he won't like that

Oh Santa... we have no snow
How are you gonna get here
We're too far from the ocean
And our boats in the back yard

So take off your boots
Put on your flip-flops
A tank-top, and a red and white cap
And don't forget the sun glasses
And...that big, red, bag!

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