As I'm jawing on the phone and sexting,
I see outside, six black horses pulling a sleigh,
And the scream from an elf.
"Whoa Nellie! this is the place."
As if I was deceased and hacking up coal,
He brought along a woolen stole,
And an autograph picture of Marilyn Chambers.
Behind the Green Door, and a wayfaring stranger.
I put the sweetie of the 800 number on hold,
And ask the elf, if I could be so bold.
"Who put the idea I was dead, in your ear,
When I hadn't even receive an RSVP?"
It seems as if the little green fucker,
Swallowed a bottle of bad chlorophyll,
And bridled horses instead of reindeer,
Getting the wrong area code, on the GPS.