Father Christmas ho! ho! ho! Come on, Rudolph, don't go slow.
Children waiting for us now, presents wrapped and delivered somehow.
The sky's the limit off we go, flying through the pure white snow.
Rudolph flying and away we soar, this is no menial lightweight chore.
The children asleep, all tucked up.
Your nose so red, Rudolph, I see, they'll awake in the morning full of glee.
Come on, Rudolph, speed away on, before this Christmas night is gone.
Father
Christmas