Tomorrow Is Christmas, It's Practically Here

Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot

But the Grinch who lived just North of Whoville did not

The Grinch hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season

Now, please don't ask why, no one quite knows the reason

It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight

It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right

But I think that the most likely reason of all

May have been that his heart was two sizes too small

But, whatever the reason, his heart or his shoes

He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the Whos

Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown

At the warm lighted windows below in their town

For he knew every Who down in Whoville beneath

Was busy now hanging a hollywho wreath

"And they're hanging their stockings" he snarled with a sneer

"Tomorrow is Christmas. It's practically here"

Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming

I must find some way to keep Christmas from coming

Tomorrow, I know all those Who girls and boys

Will wake bright and early, they'll rush for their toys

And then, oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!

There's one thing I hate! All that noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!

And they'll shriek squeaks and squeals racing round on their wheels

They'll dance with Jing-tingles tied onto their heels

They'll blow their Flew-floobers

They'll bang their Tah-thinkers

They'll blow their Who-hoobers

They'll bang their Gah-ginkers

Beat their Trum-tookers

They'll slam their Sloo-slonkers

They'll beat their Blum-blookers

They'll wham their Who-Wonkers

And they'll play noisy games like Zoo Zitta Ka Zay

A roller-skate type of lacrosse and croquet

And then they'll make earsplitting noises deluxe

On their great big Electro Who-Cardio Shluxe

Then the Whos, young and old, will sit down to a feast

And they'll feast, and they'll feast, and they'll feast, feast, feast, feast

They'll feast on Who-pudding, rare Who-roast-beast

Oh, roast beast is a feast I can't stand in the least

And then they'll do something I hate most of all

Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small

Will stand close together with Christmas bells ringing

They'll stand hand in hand, and those Whos will start singing