Fat Man                                   RogersonLB





V1

Came outside to get the presents from the shed
When I heard this big commotion just over my head
There were hooves a splaying and lots of snorting
And a big old sign a saying Santa Claus



North Pole



V2

Was sure he’d wake the kids and that would be end
Be no chance of getting em back to sleep to again
Well it was freezing and the snow was falling
When he parked on my roof I saw Red



And so I Said





Chorus
Don’t care who you are fat man, get those reindeer off my roof
They’re going to break my tiles and fill my gutters with their pooh
enough of your rapper style Ho Ho Ho (HOO HOO HOO HOO)
Don’t care who you are Fat Man, those Reindeer gotta go
No- I don’t care who you are fat man, get those reindeer off my roof







V3

Well I don’t thinks it’s funny and leave my chimney stack alone
No way you’re going down there, and breaking into my home
No you can’t give my kids candy, you’ll make them diabetic
And that fake beard and pillow up your tummy really are pathetic –



get a job







Chorus
Don’t care who you are fat man, get those reindeer off my roof
They’re going to break my tiles and fill my gutters with their pooh
enough of your rapper style Ho Ho Ho (HOO HOO HOO HOO)
Don’t care who you are Fat Man, those Reindeer gotta go
No- I don’t care who you are fat man, get those reindeer off my roofFA                                              




Bridge
Silent Night – was until you came along
Holy Night, that’s what you left in my tiles you idiot
All is calm – all might be but I’m not
All is bright – except you you oversized clown
Round Yon Virgin ----- Hey that’s enough of that sort of language, I got children inside – RIGHT





don’t care who you are fat man, get those reindeer off my roof

Fatman

Does not really talk about himself in the third person, thinks ARTY should do his homework before he goes to bed and, must not drink his own bath water as this has had someone washing in it. ARTY likes hanging out the washing on sunny days and writing songs about how wet the sheets are, he then spends an inordant amount of time spell chhecking documents and looking under his bed for his lost memories and last nights dinner wrappers.

Most imporantly ARTY believes that good music should be spelt with three o's in Good, so this is GOOOD and is a little bit further away from God which has only one o in Good. The only serious thing he does not like is songwriters who are so lazy they keep using the same word as their crux for not working hard enough and then expect to be congratulated for this amazing exploit of the explotation of a swearword which without the song would not be an unforgetable diatribe of the primal ooze of conciousness, really and I do really i do not give a F about the use of the F words or worse in songwriting.

So if you have been silly enough to get this far, he does want to start collaborating more and learning more than somethiing about the format and requirement of writing Nashville style songs, story,conversational. no metaphor, get in there tell it and FINISH- He does though have a penchant and a paper bag with a twist of monumental proportions and strangely just keeps doing it, looking over his shoulder and throwing salt, but (not the butt when you stand too close to a got butt) then Arty is just a little bit left of centre and down the road a bit and if you look hard you will see him hiding behind the letter box at number 5.

Fatman

Arty Redsocks