| Grandma got run over by a reindeer
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| Walking home from our house Christmas eve
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| You can say there’s no such thing as Santa
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| But as for me and grandpa we believe
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| She’d been drinking too much eggnog
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| And we begged her not to go
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| But she forgot her medication, and she
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| Staggered out the door into the snow
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| When we found her Christmas morning
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| At the scene of the attack
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| She had hoof-prints on her forehead
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| And incriminating Claus marks on her back
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| Now we’re all so proud of grandpa
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| He’s been taking this so well
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| See him in there watching football
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| Drinking root beer and
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| Playing cards with Cousin Mel
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| It’s not Christmas without Grandma
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| All the family’s dressed in black
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| And we just can’t help but wonder:
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| Should we open up her gifts
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| Or send them back?
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| Send them back!
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| Now the goose is on the table
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| And the pudding made of fig
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| And the blue and silver candles
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| That would just have matched
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| The hair on grandma’s wig
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| I’ve warned all my
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| Friends and neighbors
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| Better watch out for yourselves
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| They should never give a license
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| To a man who drives a sleigh
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| And plays with elves |