Verse 1 Tracks in the snow led me where I shouldn’t go, Heard a burner hissin’ with a wicked red glow. Santa at the still with his boots in the mud— He traded presents and bows for a backwoods cash flow. He raised up a jar, wiped his beard with his thumb, Said, “One hit of this’ll make the reindeer go numb.” Chorus Santa runs shine when the world ain’t lookin’, Off-season outlaw, no milk, no cookin’. Peppermint poison—cuts like a knife, Winterberry blacker than a hard-time life. He kicked that sleigh like a fugitive run, Shot sparks high as a sawed-off gun— Now I’m drinkin’ his stash and losin’ my mind, Caught dead center in a red sleigh run. Verse 2 — The Rogue Elves Two shadows stepped out like trouble in pairs, Burnt-out elves with tattoos and dead-eye stares. One had knuckles reading “NAUGHTY” and “NICE,” Other wore scars cut jagged as ice. They cursed like bikers while they loaded the load, Pourin’ shine through funnels made from sleigh parts stowed. Said the workshop grind damn near cracked their souls— Now they’re Santa’s muscle runnin’ outlaw roles. Chorus Santa runs shine when the world ain’t lookin’, Off-season outlaw, no milk, no cookin’. Peppermint poison—cuts like a knife, Winterberry blacker than a hard-time life. He kicked that sleigh like a fugitive run, Shot sparks high as a sawed-off gun— Now I’m drinkin’ his stash and losin’ my mind, Caught dead center in a red sleigh run. Bridge One sip hit me like a pine-tar fist, Two brought a blackout I never once wished. Three had me crawlin’ through the ice and the pines, Four had me swearin’ I could fly Santa’s lines. Verse 3 Sun cracked dawn and I staggered half-dead, Sleigh tracks burnin’ like a fuse line spread. If you find that still where the north winds moan, You best keep quiet—Santa guards his own. The man in red turned outlaw when the work came undone, Now he’s the meanest damn moonshiner under God’s black sun. Final Chorus Santa runs shine when the world ain’t lookin’, Off-season outlaw, no milk, no cookin’. Peppermint poison—cuts like a knife, Winterberry blacker than a hard-time life. He kicked that sleigh like a fugitive run, Left me baptized in a bullet-hot run— Now I’m bound to that still till kingdom come, Damn… trapped forever in a red sleigh run.
