Twas three months until Christmas,
And Santa was worried;
The workshop was empty,
No little elves scurried.
The benches were clean,
No toys had been made;
Because the elves were all gone,
They hadn’t been paid.
The factory was cold,
With ice all around;
The hours were terrible,
The elves were worn down.
So they picked up and quit,
And Santa grew sad;
He’d never realised ‘til now,
That things had gotten so bad.
And when the elves left,
They spread out the news;
That Santa’s workshop was freezing,
And not the place they would choose.
The word spread fast,