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Credit
O little treasured Credit Card 
You bring me Christmas cheer;
Without your clout I have no doubt
No gifts I'd give this year.
Your credit line allows me
To run up bills quite large,
And when I'm through exhausting you
I'll use my Master Charge.
Alternative Verse for the New Year
O little naughty Credit Card
You bring me discontent;
I calculate your interest rate
Is over 12 percent.
Each month the call for payment
My letterbox bombards;
I'm one more sap caught in your trap -
Next year I'll just send cards.