Santa’s coming to my house, tonight
He’s bringing me toys & stuff
And I’ve been a good good good boy
I hope that it’s good enough

He was at Westfield last week
Myer the week before
And I went and sat on his knee
And asked him for nothing more, than a:

New brother, a different mother
A Dad that I get to see
A nude picture of, my art teacher and
If you could do that for me

That’d be nice, that’d be nice
I reckon that’d be nice
That’d be nice
I reckon that’d be nice

Dad went to prison last year
And Mum’s got a boyfriend now
I’ve got to call him Nigel
And sleep on his fold out couch

I wake up every morning
Covered in hair from his cat
My brother just farts in my fave
But I’ve got a plan for that, with a:

New brother, a different mother
A Dad that I get to see
A big house, not a, small apartment and
A bed that doesn’t have fleas

That’d be nice, that’d be nice
I reckon that’d be nice
That’d be nice
I reckon that’d be nice

When Joseph, he said the “F” word
I told on him after school
And I didn’t yell or hit him
When he pushed me into the pool

See I’m on my best behaviour
Cos Santa, he’s got a list
And if I get on the nice one
Then I’ll get my Christmas wish, for a:

New brother, a different mother
A Dad that I get to see
I know it sounds like a lot Santa, but
If you could do that for me

That’d be nice, that’d be nice
I reckon that’d be nice
That’d be nice
I reckon that’d be nice