All there windows were dark. No one knew he was there.
All the Whos were all dreaming sweet dreams without care
When he came to the first little house on the square.
"This is stop number one," the old Grinchy Claus hissed,
As he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist.
Then he slid down the chimney, a rather tight pinch,
But if Santa could do it, then so could the Grinch.
He got stuck only once, for a minute or two.
Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue
Where the little who stockings all hung in a row.
"These stockings," he grinched, "are the first things to go!"