Christmas time is here, by golly, Disapproval would be folly, Deck the halls with hunks of holly, Fill the cup and don't say "when." Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens, Mix the punch, drag out the dickens, Even though the prospect sickens, Brother, here we go a-gain. On Christmas day you can't get sore, Your fellow man you must adore, There's time to rob him all the more The other three hundred and sixty-four. Rel-ations, sparing no expense'll Send some useless old utensil, Or a matching pen and pencil. SPOKEN - "just the thing I need! how nice!" It doesn't matter how sin-cere it Is, nor how heart-felt the spirit, Senti-ment will not en-dear it, What's im-portant is the price. Hark the her-ald tribune sings, Ad-ver-tis-ing wondrous things. God rest ye merry, merch-ants, May you make the yule-tide pay. Angels we have heard on high Tell us to go out and buy! So let the raucous sleigh bells jingle, Hail our dear old friend Kris Kringle, Driving his reindeer a-cross the sky. Don't stand underneath when they fly by.