Fred, the elf who flew away.
Was Santa's favorite, they say.
He tried to help with the sleigh
The night Santa was running late.
He packed the sleigh, nice and full
of presents for the reindeer to pull.
Santa, who was much of a hurry,
Took off in such a fury.
Poor Fred was still packing.
And fell back with the shaking
(Santa must lose some weight
During take off, he caused a quake)
Fred hung on for his small life
The sleigh cutting him like a knife
His hand got too slick with blood
Which came from him like a flood.
Then he slipped, falling to his death
Poor guy, terrified of heights.
Yet that turned into his demise.
No one could tell the poor old man
The terrible, but true story
They told him Fred is very happy
And that he flew away to a new land.
Thus, from that horrible day on,
Fred became famous and known
As the flying elf, the one who flew away.
Like it, darn you allz! scream
I wrote it on Friday. It's... sad, I know.
