The Department Store Santa

I'm the department store Santa; I'm employed for one month a year,

I sit in my fake plastic grotto, dispensing fake festive cheer.

A Elf has been provided to help me from one of the junior staff,

I don't think she's happy to be here, I've never once seen her break into a laugh,

The kiddies and parents all line up, in a disorderly queue

They came to poke and prod Santa, like a lamb in a petting zoo.

"Ho Ho Ho, Welcome young children. Have you been a good girl or boy"

But the brats aren't really listening, they just want to get hold of a toy.

X-boxes, playstations and lego, and multiple types of nerf gun,

Memorabilia from Wicked and Frozen for every daughter and son.

They all want the most up to date gadget, without regard to the price

Just so they can spend Christmas morning eyes glued to their latest device.

It's capitalism run riot each Christmas, I really start to despair,

And then another snot-nosed urchin sidles up to me sat in my chair.

"What do you want this Christmas, what do you want the most?"

"I just want sausages wrapped up in bacon, to go with the Turkey roast"

The next one doesn't want anything, they don't need anymore stuff, 

They just want the family around them, sharing the seasonal love.

Another suggests that I go and deliver food to the homeless and poor.

Then the Elf tells me we're finished, and she goes and locks up the door.

I'm the department store Santa; sometimes I really want out.

Will I be back next Christmas? Yes, of course, of that there's no doubt.