By KATHY KENNEDY

Fonzie, the black‑haired greaser,
Had a ready comb you know
And if you ever saw him
How that slicked‑back hair did glow

All of the other students
Used to laugh and call him cool
They never let the teachers
Know how the Fonz cut out of school

Then one foggy Christmas Eve
Santa came to say.
Arthur, with that bike so bright
Won't you guide my way tonight?"

Aa‑aayy. how the Fonz protested
He didn't want to leave his chick
But while the kiddies rested
His Honda led the herd so quick

Through dense fog on the noisy hog
Our hero drove all night
The job was done, most coolly run
By the Fonz on his bike so bright

Oh, how the children loved him
As they shouted out with glee
'Fonzie, you black‑haired greaser,
You'll go down in history!"