Wherever you lay tonight, you think yourself safe and you think yourself secure But with the power of a teleport portal, for SANTOS no home is too obscure. He won't go come down the chimney, rather he walks in like he owns the place, He judges your decorations, he eats your cookies, and he thinks they're all a disgrace.
Presents lay beneath your tree, wrapped with love oh so real, Fear not for their safety, he has come to give not steal! In fact, there he'll deposit a parcel of his own, A tiny blue box with a gold bow, subtle not overblown.
The cookies were sacrificed to sate his hunger, the milk washed them down, But he could not stay, there were many more homes in just this town! So he was gone as suddenly as he came, with a twinkle of his chin, Leaving behind his own present in your home, a mystery it's content within!
Come the morn, perhaps the curiosity would be too much! A present addressed to you, too tantalizing not to touch. Open if you wish, no trap would pounce, death was not the goal, Only to to insult you, because inside was a fresh lump of COAL!
So was the mission of SANTOS, to judge everyone naughty enough to be alive, Next year he'll try to kill you all again, but that time will you survive?