All I want for Christmas is a gun,
just like little Ralphie, except real.
Armor-piercing bullets would be fun,
and a barrel made of polished steel.
Santa, bring me ammo clips,
body targets, liquor nips.
Arm me for a firefight.
A silencer would be all right.
Shoulder holster would be cool.
Rapid fire killing tool.
I’ll get a license, keep it legal,
swear upon the U.S. eagle.
And I’ll only use it to defend.
I’ll never kill a relative or friend.