(I'm dreaming alone...)

There's a bomb to blow your mommy up
A bomb for your daddy too, ouch
A baby doll that burps and pees
A case of airplane glue

A hungry plastic troll
To scarf your buddy's arm
There's a box of ugly plastic things marked
"Uncle Bernie's Farm"

There's a little plastic congress
There's a nation you can buy
There's a doll that looks like mommy
She'll do anything but cry (Yes, sir)

There's a doll that looks like daddy
He's a funny little man
Push a button and ask for money
There's a dollar in his hand (Check his wallet)

We gotta send Santaq Claus back to the rescue mission
Christmas don't make it no more
Know that murder and destruction
Scream the toys in every store (I think this is sold in New York)

There's a man who runs the country
There's a man who tried to think
And they're all made out of plastic
When they melt, they start to stink

There's a book with smiling children
Nearly dead with Christmas joys
And smiling in his office
Is the creep who makes the toys

They got this car, when it hits the wall, you can see the guy dying
You got little plastic pools of blood
Ho-Ho-Ho-Ho-Ho (I'm dreaming...)
...intestines...you can see right into his stomach...
There's this other thing, I...
I got bombs, I got rockets, I got a, I got a stillson wrench
And comes with a tape recorder...
I got plastic brass knuckles
With sound effects
We got a '39 Chevy...