Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel I made you out of clay

O come ye to Bethlehem to see me

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel With dreidel I shall play

Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel With dreidel I shall play

Sometimes he's nutty Sometimes he's corny

That's why they're lame

And finally it does

Okay, children, let's take our seats.

And so you shake your ass around and try to get it to drop in the toilet

A Present For Santa

That's right, Santa, and we love each and every one of them.

Taoists, Krishnas, Buddhists And all you atheists, too

Hello, everyone, and welcome to McKemicks.

There's Princess Diana holding burning mistletoe

After he has sex with it He'll eat up all he can

You know dasher and dancer and prancer and vixen

Here we are as in olden days

When Christmas leaves he must leave, too

That's why they're lame

Let every heart prepare me room

But now for our next song, hold on to your boot straps,

And, my dear, we're still good-bye-be-de bye-ing

The stars are brightly shining

And hear the angel's something

- I'm gonna chop off you're legs! - No, you idiot!

Maybe we'll have ourselves a little Christmas right here.

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!