The Little Effin Drummer Boy

Here in New York, they can't even wait for Thanksgiving to release the Christmas virus. I just picked up a sandwich at the deli around the corner, and "Little Drummer Boy" was a-caroling from the speakers. I didn't really notice the song while I was there. But then I got back to the office and noticed that my shoe was untied. And I thought, I have to tie my shoe...pa-rum-pa-pum-pum.

Now all my thoughts occur in the meter of the song, and they are all followed by "pa-rum-pa-pum-pum."

I need a cigarette, pa-rum-pa-pum-pum.
Where did my pencil go? pa-rum-pa-pum-pum.
I wish this song would stop, pa-rum-pa-pum-pum.
I need a cigarette, pa-rum-pa-pum-pum.

If there is any finality to the thought, the verse has to resolve:

Work's done, I'll go home now, pa-rum-pa-pum-pum...
Me and my drum.

This is an appeal I hate to make, but being as I've got confirmation under my belt, I guess I'm allowed:

Jesus, this is your holiday. Please make it stop.