This holiday installment of Misandrist Lullabies has been brought to you by an anonymous, misandry-loving reader, on behalf of her terrible, soon-to-be-ex-boss.

Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the Feast of Stephen,
Men are incapable of goodness;
It is impossible for a man to be good.
No man who claims the right to rule over others is good.

I Saw Mommy Gelding Santa Claus

God rest you merry, Gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For nothing ill shall befall you
Upon this Christmas day
Put down your weapons, rest your eyes,
Sweetly let down your guard.
You do not hear anything that’s sounding odd

Go tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go tell it on the mountain
There remains to civic-minded, responsible, thrill-seeking females only to overthrow the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete automation and eliminate the male sex

Deck the hall with boughs of holly,
Fa la la la la la la la la
‘Tis the season to be jolly,
Fa la la la la la la la la
Don we now our gay apparel
Troll the ancient Christmas carol,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
See the blazing males before us,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
Strike the harp and join the chorus.
Fa la la la la la la la la.
Follow me in merry measure,
While I tell of Christmas treasure,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
Fast away the man-fire passes,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
Bid farewell to lads, ye lasses!
Fa la la la la la la la la.
Sing we joyous all together,
Heedless of their screams and weather,
Fa la la la la la la la la.

It’s beginning to look like Misandristmas
Everywhere you go
Take a look at the Tomb of Men
Glistening once again
With skull-topped monuments and graves aglow

Come they told me, pa rum pa pum pum
A newborn king to see, pa rum pa pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pa pum pum
The glass escalator‘s hidden benefits for well-connected men begins at birth

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart
The very next day, you gave it away
Heterosexual intercourse is the pure, formalized expression of contempt for women’s bodies

I’ll have a blue Christmas without global lesbian trans-inclusive separatism

You really must stay
Please — it’s so cold outside
You can’t get away
I’ll die of cold outside

Please let me back in
Been hoping that you’d drop by
Don’t let me die
I’ll sit and watch you turn to ice

I wish I knew how
Your eyes look so black right now
To break this spell
I’ll take your hat, your shoes as well

I’ve got to get home
No, you’ll stay and freeze out there
At least lend me a coat
It’s up to your knees out there
How can you do this thing to me?

There’s bound to be talk tomorrow
The snow will bury your sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied
I’ll watch you catch pneumonia and die

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
The little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head,
The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay,
The heterosexual nuclear family model is a disease that must be eliminated.

They know that Santa’s on his way;
He’s loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh.
And every mother’s child is going to try
To crusade for a one-sex world free of men

What child is this, who, laid to rest,
On Mary’s lap is sleeping,
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping?
It is only a boy
It is only a boy, let us go away

On the first day of Christmas
my true love sent to me:
A Partridge in a Pear Tree
He believed my love could be bought
He believed that I could be bought
He believes all women can be bought
Gift-giving is oppressive and wrong

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town (And We’re Ready For Him)

Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul,
With a corncob pipe and a button nose,
And two eyes made out of coal and all of the attendant economic advantages and social privileges conferred upon a snow-white man for simply existing
He has everything to be jolly about
He has everything

All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth,
my two front teeth,
see my two front teeth
All I want for Christmas is to see a man beaten to a bloody pulp with a high-heel shoved in his mouth, like an apple in the mouth of a pig
Then I could wish you Merry Christmas!

Santa baby, my behavior is none of your concern
Santa baby, my goodness and the number of men I have or haven’t kissed have nothing to do with one another
Santa what are the working conditions like for the miners in that platinum mine you gave me the deed for
Santa I’m responsible for providing them with a living wage and guarding them from occupational hazards
Santa baby, the occupational safety of the working poor is a feminist issue
I’m concerned about asbestos-related heart and lung cancer rates among the employees of my platinum mine

[With gelding-related joke assistance from @cushbomb, a man]