If Martha comes knocking you have to resist You're doomed if she gets you on her Christmas list I've heard that she uses some very strange bait An unheard of fig or some exotic date She reels you in slowly then removes the hook All this while writing her new herbal book Before you know it you're caught up in her grips And all you can think of is what are rose hips? I tell ya now people I just can't believe The tricks Martha's got up her neatly pressed sleeve You suddenly care all about party treats And mapping out how you'll arrange all the seats Now folks i don't know if you've all heard the rumor They say that she drains away your sense of humor

She makes up a bubble bath all warm and sloshing And uses a lavender soap for brainwashing You must always appear to be perky and sociable I'm sorry but your contracts just not negotiable If by chance that freshly picked fruit should be rotten She'll string you right up with some white muslin cotton Don't forget fresh flowers when making your list There's nothing that gets her more totally pissed And then if by chance with you she should get bored She'll just use your head for a festive fall gourd And when with you, Martha feels she's had her fill She'll take you out jogging way up a steep hill She'll beat you quite hard with a well-seasoned pan And still make it home in time for the mailman

I've heard that she make you wish that you were dead Then visits the neighbors with freshly baked bread Around your neck she'll place a nice macramé noose A square knot assuring that you can't get loose Then she'll be off to choose just right the cabernet A good year with quite an alluring bouquet And when you think you just can't take any more You're feeling just like a good housekeeping whore She says, "let me make myself perfectly clear You've warn out your welcome i don't want you here" And now that you think things just couldn't get worse She says, "on your way out please empty your purse" You can't believe how she just tosses you out To her you're just like yesterday's brussel sprout I swear i think Martha is destined for hell As soon as she finishes that Christmas bell I tell ya with her there, I'd not be surprised If hell turned to heaven right before our eyes She'll get right to work on that brimstone and fire I'm sure she'll have plans for some lightweight attire

Now once she's in hell I'm sure we can surmise Her daily routine will be to moisturize Get too close to the fire you're skin tends to crinkle You must always avoid any premature wrinkle "This bubbling hot cauldron's half empty you say Can't you see it in a more positive way?" I'm sure that the devil will quickly conclude There's no room for Martha with her attitude If she rings that brass cowbell for breakfast at seven They will kick her right out send her packin for heaven I've heard that those pearly white gates are quite striking So Martha don't try to change them to your liking A little advice, Martha zip up your lip The almighty is known to shoot straight from the hip Be careful Martha not to ruffle a feather It's said that up there everyone works together And when your experiences you try to share The response likely will be, "done that and been there" I fear that in heaven you'll feel a great loss It will be the first time that You can't be the boss!

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