I’m gonna hunker down by a roaring fire with a piece of punkin pie
Bourbon in my coffee cup, no teardrops in my eye
My mother-in-law will be here soon with a list of all my flaws
I’m gonna sit here in this easy chair like a drunken Santa Claus
You can’t bring me down from my holiday high
These mashed potatoes won’t eat themselves
I’ll protect myself with pie
I’ve worked hard all year, and now my dear,
I’ll build a calorie cocoon
And I won’t come back out again ’til New Years Day at noon
