For whom it may concern, when they say “you wish” just after I tell “I wrote a letter to Santa”.
Let me tell you a secret
For years, and years and years
I’ve written to Santa, the one
And he has ignored me big time
All these years, all all these years
Shame on him, shameless bastard
I say with my out most respect
So, where are we today?
I read it in the only possible way:
Santa, you owe me big, so much
For all these years with no reply
That all the accumulated interests
Can only be converted as such
That shiny Tesla white Model S
He has no way to dodge the bullet
For all the inconsiderate time he let
This child, this lad, this boy, forget.
See? There is no way I will not win
The dream, in a solid white pristine