I swear we're not Santa

For Wana who's feeling a bit BLEH

I wrote this right after sahur
Though it may look like it's made of poo
I made it especially for you
Just thought you'd appreciate it more

So I heard you're feeling low
Thinking your English is shit
And you don't know where to go
In the land of fish and chips
Sure the others are lucky
When you compare it to theirs
Your life there seems so dreary

But we're Scott and Pam

Some people think we're dumb
But what do they all know
So maybe we're quite slow
At least we make life fun
We're always throwing parties
And no one's invited
No one but you and me, Scotty
'Cause it's all in our head

Well, that's how it used to be
Now your new best friend is your bed
Why are your moves so hesitant?
You used to be really confident
There's no one at the party
'Cause it has come to an end
I can't even find you there
Why did you let that happen?

You hold the little black book key
It'll lead you to worlds so unknown
That no one else but you can see
Though you can't; not until you've grown
But, Scotty, just how can you shine
If you're always feeling gloomy
With all my life I guarded that key
Don't tell me it's a waste of time

So here's my conclusion:
Just treat it like just another mission
Though we don't get to use guns
But the times we've had were fun
Why should this be any different?
This time I'm throwing the party
And I'll be waiting for you there
So cheer up, dear Scotty
'Cause you're not alone.