Old Santa Claus is now on his way
Laden with presents for Christmas day;
Then down the chimney he comes at night
And passes away ere the morning light,
But leaves behind him the sweets and toys
For his own rich, favorite girls and boys.
For many a good little boy and girl
Won't get one sweet from the hard old churl,
Because, too seldom he enters the door
When he knows the people within are poor.
So there must be something wrong in the laws
Which guide the actions of Santa Claus.
Now if Santa Claus will bring gifts to me
Either in sock or on Christmas tree,
I'll ask my parents to let me share
The sweets and pennies I've got to spare
With some poor little boy or girl
Who got no gifts from the queer old churl.