You can’t buy my spirit with a gold Master card

I’d take a case of the plague over a crowded shopping mall

I’ll order gifts online while you go deck your own halls

I don’t begrudge those who feel the need to go out caroling

Just leave me alone to do my own thing

What if I were Buddhist, Jewish, atheist or other

Would you still drape me in garland until I think I will smother?

Would you respect my private ceremonial rite

Instead of trying to force me to celebrate night after night?

The truth is that I do enjoy Christmas in the way that it’s meant

But refuse to go crazy until I can’t pay the rent

All the hoopla and hustle makes me so dizzy and weak

That I take to my bed, unable to speak

So don’t be offended if I refuse your invitation

And opt for a month of glorious hibernation

As a matter of fact, Christmas pine makes me wheeze