(To the tune of "The Christmas Song," as sung by Nat King Cole...)
Wingnuts knocking on your door this morn
A guy with a Watchtower magazine
Yep it’s Christmas, and as sure as your borrrrrn
The Jay Dubs try to horn in on your scene
Everybody knows a fir tree and some mistletoe
Are signs that Satan is your god
It seems any day Armageddon will blowwww
And we pagans will be reduced to sod
You know there’s a putter ‘gainst the walllll
You’d like to glance it off his skulllll
And all the carolers who do pass
Will see you kick this Jay Dub’s assssss
And so, I’m offering this simple phrase
To Dubs from one to ninety-four
We don’t care about your mind cult wayyyys
Merry Christmas, and stay away from my doorrrr.