It’s a tale as old as time.

Whether too young to read choking hazard warnings

or much older and still unable to read choking hazard warnings

We’re all treated the same come Christmas morning

It’s already been decided

By how you’ve behaved all year

And if you’ve been naughty

Santa won’t bring Christmas cheer

Instead in your stocking,

There it will sit

A large lump of coal

That’s as heavy as a brick

In the mountains of Kentucky

A miner’s daughter named Hannah

Was as sour as could be 

Like a rotten banana

And her siblings were nasty

Just like her!

They were all sure to get coal

For the way that they were.

Nonetheless on Christmas eve

When they’d lay down to sleep

They hoped they’d wake up

To gifts piled in heaps.

But it was always the same story

and the news wasn’t shocking.

Frowns filled the room

With coal in every stocking.

But in the corner of the room

There was always one smile

Worn by their father

Who’d planned this for a while.

Because to him, coal was a gift

As valuable as gold

So the miner raised little monsters

That would always get coal.