I’m beginning to plotz a lot for Christmas—
Friends say I’m a schmoe.
One time hooked was I on a Yent-
a; now I’m gentile-bent—
I think that this has pissed off my mohle, Moe.

It’s Begin that I shook off. . .hot for Christmas;
Goys, what I adore:
Got a shiksa tonight with me;
We’ll be shtupping ’neath the tree—
An affront to Tor’.

Unsnared from Talmudic hoots,
I’m in missal cahoots. . .
Help the bish’ in paying the rent.
Holly I flock with the flock—what a shock.
To the Pope my elbow is bent.
He’s Papa, dad, rad hat on pate.
Yule’s cool! Drool: carp for Lent.

Once bin ich Yiddish schnook, yarmulke’s missing—
Where did that thing go?
Für mich, fir with a balsam smell. . .
Dairy with meat goes well.
That turbid wine, the syrup kind? No! No!!

I’m a meshugge schnook, Chanukah misfit.
Soon kvells will start,
And the thing that will make me sing
Is kissing the bishop’s ring.
Then I get a start—
He rims my trimmed part!