The store clerk's cursing
The meat is green
Sweet Soviet memories
Was hard to feel lonely
With bugging by KGB
Bread rolls never had any more than three
But good thing no one had more than me

I'm dreaming of a blue Christmas
Like all the ones under Kruschev
Where we stand like brothers
In snow for hours
For soap bar, then sit all night on stove

I'm dreaming of a blue Christmas
With every ballot I fill out - I mean, count!
Holy crap, bunch of red ones I found
Close the door - quick Igor! - pull window shades down!

It better be a blue Christmas
After so many paper cuts
I already miss dinner
If Joe's not winner
Will kick Jake Tapper in the nuts

I'll do anything for blue Christmas
If ballot not blue, put in red cabbage stew!
And some will light up with
Smoking my pipe with
The rest I will wipe with
After Number 2

I'm not seeing any harm in
Saving couple rolls of Charmin
Never know once the Christmases turn blue