Whatchamawho

For tomorrow, I know,

all those Who girls and boys

Will wake bright and early

And race for their toys!

I can see it all now,

just how it will be.

Imagine it, Max...

Try to see what I see.

'Tis the morning of Christmas

The forecast is sleet,

In they come tripping

On little who-feet.

Dear little who-tots

The girls and the boys,

Ready to rip through

A mountain of toys.

Isn't it precious?

Or so it would seem.

Why do I have the

Distinct urge to scream ...?

Ohhhh ...

I got a whatchama whatchama who

You got a whatchama? – Me too!

Look, it's a thinga-ma

Thinga-ma ding!

Let's all play with a whatchama thing!

It's annoying,

So annoying,

It's destroying my sense of myself

And my eardrums.

Distressing, so distressing

I'm confessing

The sight of kids messing with toys

Leaves me cold.

If I may be so bold.

Behold!

Ohhhh ...

I got a whatchama whatchama who!

You got a whatchama? – Me too!

Look, it's a thinga-ma thinga-ma hey!

We've got a thinga-ma – let's play!

Why the noisies?

With the toysies?

Girls and boysies devoting themselves to

The mayhem and chaos

They should pay us

For enduring the noise of these

Hyper maniacal who-girls and boys!

And their mis'rable toys!

These toys!

Ohhhh ...

Banging and binging a thing-a-ma-ding!

Bouncing and bouncing a bounce-a-ma-thing!

Here we go with the whachama fly!

I want to stop it, and you wonder why?!

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?