Santa's Dead

Santa's dead (ho ho no!) his head took a bullet
And his white locks soon turned to a claret mullet
Naught survived, with all his reindeer butchered
They were sleighed, when their guts were ruptured
Alas Santa was savagely felled, 'twas his final hurdle
Somewhere cold, is his grave, beyond the Arctic Circle
Decembers will now come and go and we'll fake the news
Even though Santa was murdered, we'll hide the clues
And let's not tell the children, they don't need to know
Dasher and his deer friends died with Santa in the snow