Ho, ho, ho!
And what do you want for Christmas, little boy?
(Gee, Santa, I want a bicycle)
Well, if you're a good little boy
Your wish will be granted
(Thank you, Santa)
Next
And what do you want for Christmas, little boy?
(Santa, I want to be a real live sidewalk surfer
And I want a genuine Wiamea bun-bustin' skateboard
And, and a bottle of peroxide
And, and a hundred and fourteen Freddie and the Snowmen surfin' records
And a Fender electric twangy surf guitar)
Alright
Is that all?
(Gee, no it isn't, Santa
If I'm gonna be a real live genuine sidewalk surfer
I, I gotta have a torn white sweat shirt
And, and a pair of cut-off blue jeans
And some guarache sandals
And a subscription to "Surfer" magazine)
"Surfer" Magazine?
Well, little boy, I hope that's all you want for Christmas
(As a matter of fact, no, Santy, it isn't
See, if I'm gonna be a real genuine sidewalk surfer
I gotta be one of the boys
And, and I gotta have a whole bunch of surfboard decals
And fifteen copies of "Miserlou"
And, and a surfer dictionary
And a big box of band-aids)
Band-aids?
Why would you want band-aids for Christmas?
(Well, Santa, if I'm a sidewalk surfer
I'm gonna be out shootin' the curb
And when I fall and bust my buns
I gotta fix myself up)
Oh, ho, ho, ho!
Oh, ho, ho, ho! (Oh, please, Santa, please)
Oh, Merry Christmas, little boy! (I wanna be a real sidewalk surfer)
Merry Christmas! (Oh, please, Santa)
Oh, ho, ho, ho! (Please, I gotta have all those things, Santa)
Oh, ho, ho, ho! (I gotta, Santa, I'll hit you in the mouth if I can't have all those things, please Santa)
Oh, ho, ho, ho! (I gotta be a real sidewalk surfer)
Oh, Merry Christmas, little boy (Shootin' the curb and bust your buns)
Go home, little boy (Oh, please Santa)
Oh, go home (Please, I gotta be a real sidewalk surfer)
Merry Christmas! Oh, go home (Oh, golly Santa)