by Cigan Cuk
This is the Myth of the Venerable Trauer Klouse
How his fame and story came to be
Of his origin and acclaim
And the fragments that are always left to see
The year was two thousand and eighteen
Winter holidays were selling in every store
A jolly red clothed man was famous
But behind this image there was something more
Trauer Klouse lived alone
He watched the world go slowly by
His brother got all the attention
Trauer was just like a piece of leftover pie
Every year his brother was so famous
And Trauer sat forgotten
No one really cared about him
His holidays and soul were often rotten
Trauer had long white hair and a beard
He looked like a mountain dweller that lived inside
His appearance was derided by the judging masses
And his eyes were dried from tears he had cried