O Tanenbaum!, O Tanenbaum!
Much pleasure hath you brought me!
Now you wither so
(And there is no snow)
Your charm hath turned so blightly

Your needles dropped
Stick in my socks
From asunder they smite me

Tho’ things aren’t
As they used to be
A fire hazard
More than Christmas Tree

I will miss you, sir
And be quite disturbed
As void of Joy
I drag you to the curb

01/04/2006

Posted on 01/04/2006
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