Grinch with crystal ball

A doubt is known to be more corrosive 
Than any t' weather, acid, water  
Salt, nature, can put in one's way  


And Philippe Petit feared nothing 
More than doubt. Oh, what he would 
Have done without, such thoughts 


To have doubt cynically with brush 
Invade thoughts when walking on ropes 
Across the twin towers that was 


Why set doubt in the minds of the young's "belief" 
And kill Santa Claus dead in his tracks 
Why begrudge utopia with curse not needed 


And tell the little one 
Santa is too fat to fit in a chimney  
And for that, Santa is not coming this year 


I often wonder, left to contemplate, a hint of anger  
What wrong was done to the fortune teller 
Who conveys nothing, but bad, bad news 


To say Santa will not come this year in "rumple" truth   
"I foresee, in my cards, in your palms 
In the crystal ball, I foresee"


I bequest t' King to ask for the banishments 
Of such false prophecy and doubt of the grinch  
I bequest t' king to demand, Christmas back 


For Santa Claus to come again, bearing gifts 
And put a big old smile on the face of the lovely 
Why set doubt in such "festive" spirit, grinch  


Why kill the spirit  with your corrosive doubt 
Under the Christmas tree on boxing day, darling 
Look close dear, for your wishes would come true