  My Mommer says ef I ain't good, Thet Santa'll stay away, En never bring a top er thing Thet boys want Christmas day; En I'm jes' purfic now, I guess, Er purficker then some, En I'm behavin' like a man So Santa Claus'll come! I hop up out of bed, you know, 'Fore Mommer calls me thayre, En dress myse'f en wash my face En nicely comb my hair; En then I help my Mommer work, En make a happy home, En please my Popper all I kin, So Santa Claus'll come. I go to school through all the week, En never hookey play, En I'm so good I'm never made Tell after school to stay; En when the Sundays come, you bet, I quit each idle chum, En go to Sunday School ez nice, So Santa Claus'll come! En Mommer says I'm orful good, En teacher says so, too, En call me jes' a angel, all But havin' wings,—they do! A dandy big bass drum! You betcher life I'm bein' good So Santa Claus'll come! |
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