Snowfall caps the hills like white fluff.
Bundles of gifts, assortments of stuff.
It starts to fall faster and builds to a flurry
Better get home with much quicker hurry.
Avalanches trap us inside,
Welcome our cold deaths, we must abide.
Presents surround the beautiful tree,
Picking out the ones for you and me.
Growing spikes come out of the paper,
Our gifts transform, our hope starts to taper.
Poisonous creatures that we brought inside,
Welcome our torture, we must abide.
Children asleep on Christmas Eve,
Dreaming of Santa, hoping he ain't peeved.
Shadowy figures pass by their windows,
The kids, still dreaming, means only he knows.
Grýla enters and gnaws their insides,
Welcome their fate, they must abide.
Tales of Santa, his reindeers and elves,
They stay at the North Pole and keep to themselves.
Isolation makes the best cache,
Capital Saint Nick is harder to catch.
The elves of slavery work all day inside,
Welcome their master, they must abide.