Santa's Fuckin' Roadies

Santa's Fuckin' Roadies - Kevin Bloody Wilson

Santa was in trouble
Was his reindeer were on strike
And his little helpers wouldn't help at all
And Christmas time was nigh

So he ran an ad in the Rolling Stone
For someone to lend a hand
And ended up with an out of work crew
From a burned out rock and roll band

We're Santa's fuckin' roadies
Santa's fuckin' roadies
We got a gig at Christmastime
Helping Santa Claus
We're Santa's fuckin' roadies
Santa's fuckin' roadies
Its christmastime so stock up the fridge
And lock up your dope and daughters

There were ten of them in total
Huge big ugly men
Covered in tats and battle scars
Six teeth between all ten
And not a brain between them
Just all this blubber and brawn
But Santa knew they'd have to do to help him Christmas morn

Ripping rooms to pieces
Like fucking sniffer dogs
Knock off your dope shag your daughter
Knock off all your grog
A mindless mess of chaos
entrusted to St. Nick
A stampede of stupidity
To help him with his gig

So if you want to be a Santa's roadie
Then all you need to know
How to rage and party all night
And how to handle snow (sniff sniff)
So if you'd like to help out Santa
And you're prepared to have a go
Just chug-a-lug a beer and say after me
Ho, ho fucking ho
HO HO FUCKING HO