Jack Listen, everyone: there were objects so peculiar They were not to be believed All around, things to tantalize my brain It's a world unlike anything I've ever seen And as hard as I try I can't seem to describe Like a most improbable dream But you must believe when I tell you this It's as real as my skull and it does exist Here, let me show you This is a thing called a present The whole thing starts with a box Harlequin demon A box? Devil Is it steel? Werewolf Are there locks? Harleouin demon Is it filled with a pox? Devil, werewolf, harlequin demon A pox How delightful, a pox Jack If you please Just a box with bright-colored paper And the whole thing's topped with a bow Witches A bow? But why? How ugly What's in it? What's in it? Jack That's the point of the thing, not to know Clown It's a bat Will it bend? Creature under the stairs It's a rat Will it break? Undersea gal Perhaps it s the head that I found in the lake Jack Listen now, you don't understand That's not the point of Christmas land Now, pay attention Now we pick up an oversized sock And hang it like this on the wall Mr. Hyde Oh, yes! Does it still have a foot? Medium mr. Hyde Let me see, let me look Small mr. Hyde Is it rotted and covered with gook? Jack Hmm, let me explain There's no foot inside, but there's candy Or sometimes it's filled with small toys Mummy and winged demon Small toys Winged demon Do they bite? Mummy Do they snap? Winged demon Or explode in a sack? Corpse kid Or perhaps they just spring out And scare girls and boys Mayor What a splendid idea This Christmas sounds fun Why, I fully endorse it Let's try it at once Jack Everyone, please now, not so fast There's something here that you don't quite grasp Well, I may as well give them what they want And the best, I must confess, I have saved for the last For the ruler of this Christmas land Is a fearsome king with a deep mighty voice Least that's what I've come to understand And I've also heard it told That he's something to behold Like a lobster, huge and red And sets out to slay with his rain gear on Carting bulging sacks with his big great arms That is, so I've heard it said And on a dark, cold night Under full moonlight He flies into a fog Like a vulture in the sky And they call him Sandy Claws Well, at least they're excited Though they don't understand That special kind of feeling in Christmas land Oh, well...