Bah, humbug!
If three ghosts show up, I’m outa here.
To celebrate the true spirit of christmas I ram a dove into a virgin.
Nah, man, that’s how they get you.
When the first one shows up, treat him like a long-lost friend and offer to buy him a drink. Keep plying him with booze, and when the others show up to find out what’s taking so long, buy them a round, too. Next thing they know, it’ll be dawn and they’ll, like, turn to rock candy or whatever and you’ll be free.
Or that’s what I’ve heard, anyway. :: whistles innocently ::
Heh. Change “dove” to “pigeon” and it pretty much rhymes. New December-time song there? 
Eutychus, I had been about to sympathise greatly but I suddenly thought, with a name like yours, can’t you just fall asleep and stay that way till the thing is over?
Me, I plan to ignore it as much as possible, but we all know that’s a bit tricky to manage. 
First they came for the “true spirit of Christmas,” and I said nothing; for I was not truly spirited.
Next they came for the “true meaning of Christmas,” and I said nothing; for I was mean.
Then they came for “what Christmas is all about,” and I said nothing; for I was not Charlie Brown.
Then they came for the last can of Who hash, and I said nothing; for I had been off that shit since the Quadrophenia tour in '97.
Then they came for the Misfit Toys, and I said nothing; because nobody wants a Charlie-in-the-Box.
Then they came for all of us, and by then there was no one left to explain that the nasty letter signed “All of us” was really sent by that stupid glasses-wearing atheist mouse living under the clockmaker’s workshop.
When that cheap bastard gets me a birthday present and celebrates mine, then I will get him a present celebrate his birthday too.
Until then. fuck’em.