god the face of Santa's bones is gonna haunt my dreams

this song is so underrated are you fuckin kidding me what a banger!

It’s a good gig, bein' a snowman
They roll me up every year
Look at that little funny carrot nose
It brings folks so much cheer!

But the thing that makes me special
A little secret all of my own
I’m the only man of snow I know who’s full of other people’s bones

Y’know I’m not too sure how it got its name
But Donner Lake’s a beautiful scene
In fact I’m not too sure of plenty other things
Like where I got these fancy spleens

I guess some snow’s just gory
Which is why I’m so unique
I’m the only man of snow I know who’s got a couple sets of teeth

CHATTER WITH ME.

A snowman is a wish you make with winter’s heart
Speaking of hearts I’m packin' five a those, eleven toes, eight clavicles, how magical!

And when the spring brings the warming sun
Be sure to watch your step on your mornin run
Cause I’m the only man of snow I know who’s got somebody else’s tongue

Bring it home

I’m the only man of snow I know who’s full of other people’s bOWNEZ!

Snow Bones About It

So this Christmas
You wanna get em
Somethin sweet and sentimental

Aren’t you precious
And so thoughtful
So very nice

But lemme pitch you this
Instead of worthless shit
Maybe take the hit
And dip
Into those savings for a little
somethin priceeeeyyyyyyy

Gucci, Rolex, Tiffany
A rare illegal foreign cheese
I’ll buy you shit that’ll make you scream
Make your real life feel like a holiday dream

You want a yacht okay why not
A taxidermied ocelot
Armani, Prada, and Dior
Anything you want, I’ll wrap it up, it’s yours

This Christmas! Gonna spend every DIME
Because the finest gifts are
ONE YOU FIND ON A SHELF

This Christmas! Ain’t wasting my TIME
Tryin to read your mind and make you something myself

(Wailing)
This Christmaaaaaas!

This Christmaaaaaas!

Love on a Shelf

Well the winter snow’s-a-fallin and you know your friends are all expecting
gifts oh so unique
And you really better nail it, cause you know that you’ll have failed em if
They’re not knocked off their feet 

You can get em comfy slippers, seasons tickets to the Clippers
A kazoo for playin jolly little tunes
Some nova lox or wooly socks, fancy chocolates in a box
A funny shirt they’ll prolly throw away by June

But if you wanna get em something cool and hip and new
PSST
Give their ass a mummified
Give their ass a mummified
Give their ass a mummified goose!

Can you imagine how they’ll clap
After they tear away the wrapping
And lay eyes upon an ancient dusty bird

Some hollow bones, their very own
to grace a mantle in their home
If I might say, pretty impressively preserved

So listen, hey, this holiday,
I’m not sure what else I can say
But if you really wanna throw em for a loop

You find a goose that went kaputt
Ya wrap it up from beak to foot
And you give their ass a mummified
Give their ass a mummified
Give their ass a mummified
GOOSE
(honk)

Mummified Goose

I used to spend my holidays alone
An anthropomorphic oar, pretty bored
Sittin inside of his home, oh no

But then you met me, and I suggested we
Go on a little holiday trip, really quick
And we went down to the Bahamas for a dip
And we just kept going

Christmas can be every day
When you’re travelin' the world and you’re an oar and you’re gay
We ate tangerines in Tokyo
Then caught a flight to Borneo
And spent a day in Rekjavik
The hot dogs there were pretty sick

Every trip ya take is a gift
When you love the livin' hell out of the one that you’re with
We’ve been to Bangalore
and BogoTA
Had onion rings in Omaha

Got high as hell in Amsterdam
And ate up all our Christmas ham

God damn that was a damn good ham

And now the future that we make is our own
Close your eyes and throw a dart at the map, and that’s that,
Off to destinations unknown
I hope wherever we go has more ham

Travelin’s such a wonderful ride
But it’d be a drag without you here at my side
Why don’t we stop for brunch in Saskatoon
Namibia to see some dunes
Chicago just to peep the bean
And also bone beneath the bean

Antarctica if we’ve got time
I hear that France has decent wine
To London when the tea is served
And maybe skip St. Petersburg

Hey what’s the deal with Idaho?
Like should we bother? I dunno.
Singapore or Bora Bora?
Either, oar, cause I adore ya

Either Oar

This Christmas
My wishlist
Isn’t so much about the gettin
But the hope that I can give

Saint Nicholas
A gift that
Let’s him know how much we love him
If in fact he ever really even lived

Santa Claus, you are magic, but you also maybe weren’t real
And you slapped that guy
Who maybe shit himself to death, look it up
We didn’t cover it
But he allegedly shit himself to death
Here’s a drawing 

Santa Claus!
You saved the pickle boys
And did a bunch of other stuff
And now you’re bones
But even bones deserve some love
So here’s a song
From me to you
Santa Claus

You… you look like you want to sing?
Do you want to sing?

Thanks Professor for that sweet, sweet song
I was a real sourpuss but now I see that I’m wrong

The holiday season’s not the time for holding grudges
It’s a time for giving gifts and eatin cheese and tasty fudges

I’m ol’ Saint Nick and I’m here to say
I used to be a bishop but I’m bones today

Every year I bring joys and toys to kids
But frankly there’s lots of other things I did


Saint Nicholas saved the pickle boys
Ain’t ya heard? I saved the pickle boys
Sounds absurd n far fetched but you sure as shit can bet
That Saint Nicholas saved the pickle boys

Now what’d I do?
You save the pickle boys
The pickle who?
The pickle boys?
Who killed the butcher too?
Wait did you kill that butcher?

Ladies and gentlemen- recently barreled by a psychotic butcher
But resurrected by the clown prince of Christmas aka ME
PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR
THE PICKLE BOYYYYYS

Song For Santa

Livin in France
Out in le country
A little more limited menu than you see in Paris

Got no filet mignon
Got no boeuf bourguignon
No bouillabaisse or creme brûlée or charcuterie

Ahh but when the pangs of hunger
howling in the gut grow stronger
Fangs come out and then I long to
MUNCH ON THE TERRIFIED FRENCH

French HEADS, I’m eatin’ em nightly
Bon apetite mon frère, no need to heat I’ll eat ‘em rare

French HEADS, season ‘em lightly
A bordelaise for Claire, a pinch of pepper on Pierre

HOWLS

Call me beast
Call me a monster
Just don’t call me late when a tasty young shepherd’s in the meadow alone

Go on and shame me
Ah but ya made me
It’s whatcha get when you’re hangin with a wolf in the quiet low valleys of the ecotone

Ahhh I realize it’s reckless
But this wolfy’s feeling peckish
If you don’t protect your neck it’s
CHOMP CHOMP AU REVOIR! Ha ha ha ha

French heads, they’re oh so yummy
Paprika dusted on Denis, a side of skewered Genevieve

French heads, in my tummy
As for below the neck, no thanks
I’m good
I’ll take the check PLEASE

French Heads

A stool of gold
A stool of gold
A stool of gold
A stool of gold
A stool of gold

A stool of gold
A stool of gold

A stool of gold
A stool of gold
A stool of gold
A stool of gold
A stool of gold
A stool of gold
A stool of gold

A Stool Of Gold

Pompeii, a beautiful day!
Check me chillin in a geological way
I’m Vesuvius,
Some say the grooviest
Volcano they know in the west coast bay

And excuse-a-me-ah, a but ya see-ah
I got a little case of planetary diarrhea
So uh oh-oh-oh! I’m gonna blow
Ashes up the asses of the masses below

I’m Mount Vesuvius!
And, look, I hate to do this
Just gonna bury yr town rq :(
But spewin’ goo’s my truth, sis :)

Apologies to the bay of Napoli
But I gotta lotta lava gotta get outta me
Well I’m hot and I’m quakin! And shakin geothermally
But it’s not to be taken! Please don’t take it personally!

Pompeii! If you’re feeling it! Shout it back!
Oh, okay, well, they’ve covered in ash. —   

I’m Mount Vesuvius
And, look, I hate to do this
Just gonna bury ur town rq :(
Cause spewin’ goo’s my truth, sis :)

And I’m sorry but I can’t control these grim volcanic urges
And I hate to cake your town beneath my pyroclastic surges
And you have to know that even Mother Nature gets the runs
This could all have been prevented with a million tons of Tums!

I Spew Goo

Choke For The Gold!

We were in love once
Oar, weren’t we?
Dipped into the sea
Just you and me
Wading in harmony

We were were in love once
Oar weren’t we
But now I’m a sword you see
Me and Musashi
Boy we make ‘em bleed

I long for the days our heads dunked under waves
How we splashed and we smooched , oh remember?

Well now I’m a blade and the one thing I crave
Is to slash and to swoosh and dismember

We’re meant to be, Oar
Or are we?

Now this samurai’s cuttin me/you down to size
We must be denser than wood to not realize

We just can’t be, Oar
Or can we?

It’s pretty clear to me, you’d rather be weaponry
You’re spillin’ gore on the shore and I’m lost at sea

Love on a Shelf

Puppet History

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