They're trying to bury Santa Claus,
to kill Christmas Eve,
to make our miracles blurry
to make us not believe,

They're trying to buy the story
to grasp the hollowness with their teeth,
to rip the sunrise out of the morning
and to break the dawns in our myth,

They're trying to kill our memory
and to put out the glimpses once lit,
to put to sleep our Bill Murray,
and cover our dreams with their greed,

They want to take our smiles to the market
our kisses to the deep of the sea,
To make a mockery out of Santa
and from the elves to make wannabes,

They're trying to control our seeings,
to make puppets out of our souls,
to take the threads of our bleedings,
and put it as emptiness into holes,

They're trying to kill Santa Claus
To erase the belief from our heads,
to take the thorns out of the roses
and ill the love from under our beds...