It's nine o'clock and it's Christmas Eve,
My office party's pretty wack
There's a young man photocopying
His bare ass and his red yuletide sack

He says "Dude! Merry Christmas!" and carries on
I'm staggered, and quite at a loss
Coz he's loud and he's drunk; he's an arrogant punk
And sadly, he's also my boss

Fa la la, fa-la-la
Fa la, fa-la-la, faaa-laaa

Ho freakin' ho, buddy! It's Santa, man!
Tangled in festive lights
What a mad, bacchanalian symphony
Of broom closet shaggin' and fights

Now John from accounts has got mistletoe
And eggnog stains down his pants
And he's pursuin' Sue, who's adept at Kung Fu
If he wants a fat lip, here's his chance

I.T. Bill's the DJ, and he's groovin' hard
But his songlist's quite Manilow-esque
If he plays one more Cliff Richard Megamix
I'll staple his ears to a desk

Fa la la, fa-la-la
Fa la, fa-la-la, faaa-laaa

Now Paul, the VP: Janitorial
(He owns his own bucket and mop)
Is earning his bonus with quickness, not slowness;
He'll sing 'til we pay him to stop

As the Marketing guys form a conga line
Mr Lee downloads hot reindeer porn
Well, if Jesus could see how we celebrate
He'd have second thoughts 'bout being born

Ho freakin' ho, ladies! It's Santa, man!
Come sit on Santa's lap
That's the line I use on all the secret'ries
So mostly I just get a slap

Now I've blown my big chance with young Natalie
Who I wooed through the night, acting cute
Coz some fellers dared me to climb down a "chimney"
And I got stuck in the rubbish chute
The cold buffet's left over from Halloween
And the beer doesn't taste much like beer
Well, I've just decked the halls with disgorged Tootsie Rolls
And I'll do it all again next year!

Fa la la, fa-la-la
Fa la, fa-la-la, faaa-laaa

Ho freakin' ho, buddy! I'm Santa, man!
I need your sympathy
Because Holly and Ivy and Melody
Won't unwrap their "presents" for me