Merry Dieselmas!

Dashing through the snow
In a diesel-powered sleigh
Blowing clouds of smoke
Laughing all the way

Turbos spoolin' high
We're about to fly
What fun it is to rev it up
and smoke those yuppies out!

Rolling coal, rolling coal,
Rollin' all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
in a diesel-powered sleigh

Rolling coal, rolling coal,
Rollin' all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
in a diesel-powered sleigh

Tall stacks rollin' coal
Like I'm puttin' on a show
What fun it is to rev it up
and smoke those yuppies out!

Hear that Detroit whine
Screamin' at redline
Blowin' thick black smoke
Doesn't mean it broke

See them dual stacks smoke
As we pass that Powerstroke
What fun it is to rev it up
and smoke those yuppies out!

Rolling coal, rolling coal,
Rollin' all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
in a diesel-powered sleigh

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbOABnnODyo

I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's worth. Banks are going bust. Shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TVs while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be.
We know things are bad — worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don't go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is: 'Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won't say anything. Just leave us alone.'
Well, I'm not gonna leave you alone. I want you to get MAD! I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to riot — I don't want you to write to your congressman, because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you've got to get mad. [shouting] You've got to say: 'I'm a human being, god-dammit! My life has value!'