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When Santa Spaffed In My Stocking (2011)

by Footprints In The Custard

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1.
‘Twas the night before Christmas And spirits were high I was all tucked up in bed I knew Santa was nigh The stockings were hung The mince pies were out And I drifted to sleep With good feelings throughout But when Santa descended the chimney His breathing was heavy I thought it was due to his weight But he was just getting ready He crept into my room With his sack in his hand And decked my halls With his testicular glands When Santa spaffed in my stocking I’ll admit that I cried It was horrid and crusty Because it had dried When Santa spaffed in my stocking There went my Christmas day My presents are festive in the worst possible way Cumming all ye faithful Over all that’s in sight Spilling his eggnog And pulling his cracker all night Putting his pig in blankets Was not enough for St. Nick He had to stuff my turkey And baste with his prick He went through my selection box And ate all the best ones And then he spread his jolly jam Over my hot-crossed buns It wasn’t a silent night But it was a holy night He was away in my manger Setting his pudding alight When Santa spaffed in my stocking I’ll admit that I cried It was horrid and crusty Because it had dried When Santa spaffed in my stocking There went my Christmas day My presents are festive in the worst possible way Santa’s been dreaming of a white Christmas too It’s horrid, translucent, all covered in goo Following that reindeer booty all over the earth Gave him a stiffy so huge with a pulsating girth Oh, I wish it could be Christmas every day But tell me why did it have to be this way? When Santa’s Yule log became unfurled All’s he wanted was to feed the world When Santa spaffed in my stocking I’ll admit that I cried It was horrid and crusty Because it had dried When Santa spaffed in my stocking There went my Christmas day My presents are festive in the worst possible way Now Santa’s sack is empty He’s given all his presents to me There are tears in my eyes Spunk in my Christmas tree But next year I know I’ll pull my own stunt I’ll lace his brandy with roofies And rape the fat cunt
2.
Deep in my heart, deep in my soul There’s something missing, I’m not whole There is something I don’t have Nothing for you to grasp All my nights I can’t sleep Knowing I am incomplete I have nothing left to lose Nothing for your hands to use I know I can never be Anymore than you now see So please don’t tell me lies When you look into my eyes Place your hands upon my chest Say you’ll always love me best But when your hands find nothing there Tell me truly you don’t care Out of my heart, out of my soul My life is rushing to a close All around me people see Everything I fail to be Can you not see that I am lost? For my crimes I’ve paid the cost I wish I could be complete Become part of the elite

about

Santa's a paedo. Think about it, he travels around the world every year visiting children in their bedrooms and giving them 'presents'.
To raise awareness of this festive fiddler and his dastardly deeds, we've penned this classic.
Spread the word! Santa Claus might be 'coming' to your 'town' this Christmas.
Remember: Bear trap.

credits

released December 18, 2011

Russ Custard - Vocals
Ian Fraser - Bass, Vocals
Whitty Whitworth - Guitars, Vocals
Ross Vickers - Guitars
Tommo Walker - Drums

'Special' intro by our good friends, The Bathroom Crooners.

Thanks to Sagetyrtle, Benjamin Flack and Audible Edge from the Freesound Project for the samples.

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Footprints In The Custard Manchester, UK

Award-winning Party Metal Band from Manchester, UK.

Heavy and catchy tunes about partying, smelly genitals, unusual sexual habits, and bears.

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