Up on the rooftop click click click.

Down through the chimney with good Saint Nick.

Sang that every fucking year in elementary school, Dom trying to sound like Al B Sure or some shit.

I sang today, perched on a rooftop.

I wanted to click click click in Arklay heads. Fucking Tombstone. Call S-Mart the OK Corral.

The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.

Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn’t go?

The bandits did. The Watchmen didn’t.

The people rose, and got bloodied in the process.

We water the tree of liberty with our own fucking blood.

Christmas is coming, and that goose is getting fat, motherfuckers.