Old man, more or less six hundred years old
But the strangest thing of all
Is that he has a horse named Mould
They say he lives here in Madrid
Something which doesn’t quite fit
From here, he brings a present for every Dutch kid
Leaving the Spanish youth in the shit
I have searched high, I have searched low
I will search every where I go
But still I haven’t found the good man, no, no, no
Not even hanging with his Pedros Negros in the Park Retiro
So what could I expect this 5th of December?
Would the Sint forget me or would he remember?
I had been a reasonable good child this year
So principally I had nothing to fear
The only problem was a simple one
I was in Madrid and the Sint probably somewhere in Rotterdam
But this great old friendly man is always considered very wise
So he got together with his black helpers to arrange a compromise
He would send his youngest Piet back to Spain
So that my expectations wouldn’t be in vain
So there it was when I opened my eyes
My shoe was filled with a great big surprise
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2 comments:
Sint is everywhere!! You must have been a good boy!!
I was, I was, I was! Maybe you could thank the Sint for me for the most expensive chocolate in the Netherlands!
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