Raised by Owls - The Santanist

Christmas time comes once a year!
Christmas time is finally here!

We drape the tinsel like entrails
Around this dead, rotting tree
A plate of treats and a glass of sherry
Oh, Father Christmas, bringer of glee
Strike down all non-believers
Grind their bones into dust
Enshroud ourselves in these garments, we must
A ritual to sate fanatic lust

All Hail!
Hail Santa!

Oh, bearded great one
We are your servants
Eager for you to slither down our chimney
We yearn for your presence. And your presents
Bestow us with your majesty
Sworn to Saint Nick, we'll always be
His coat is crimson red, rides night upon his sled
Dare not to make his list, your heart will be left filled with dread
He knows of your intent. Knows how your year was spent
Empties his sack so big, he spreads his joy without relent

In the chokehold of winter, we make a defiant stand
Reject tradition, outsiders as one
All hail Santa Claus!

Sacred dagger primed in hand; I will become a Santanist.
Drink the blood from Rudolf's neck, indoctrinated Santanist.
Initiation now complete, I have become a Santanist
Putrid mortals bow to me; I am the mighty Santanist

Written by:
Sam Fowler

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find