It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Fitzmas

It's beginning to look a lot like Fitzmas

Everywhere you go.

Who's gonna do five-or-ten?

We're thinking once again

Of handcuffs and of orange jumpsuits aglow.

It's beginning to look a lot like Fitzmas

Indictments on every score

But the prettiest sight to see

Is the scowl on Darth Cheney

At the slammer's front door.


A warrant or writ, a subpoena that fits

Is the wish of Barney and Ben;

The thought of Turdblossom hung up like a possum

Is the hope of Janice and Jen;

And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for court to start again.


It's beginning to look a lot like Fitzmas

Everywhere you go.

There's an defendant who doesn't want to tell;

One in the White House as well --

The felony kind that doesn't mind the law!

It's beginning to look a lot like Fitzmas

Soon the bells will start

And the thing that will make them ring

Is the indictment that we sing,

Right within our hearts!