So it’s Christmas—my Christmas—my secular day;
The Supreme Court decided it must be that way.
As a secular holiday, Christmas can stay,
With department-store Santa Claus, there on display,
Or with Rudolph, or some other TV cliché,
And your photograph taken in front of the sleigh.
If you want, you can use this occasion to pray;
Even atheists know such behavior’s okay—
Just as long as you don’t expect me to obey,
And admit that your version of Christmas holds sway;
The establishment clause means I don’t have to play
By your rules, because every belief gets its say.
If you really think Christmas is in disarray,
That it’s war, and it’s time to make somebody pay,
Then I humbly submit, you’ve been led far astray
By some ignorant pundit who airs his dismay
By the grace of that same First Amendment that “they”
Get to hide behind, here in the U. S. of A.