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Hanukkah Harry decided to marry outside of his Jewish descent.
Tired of the dreidels he'd gotten since cradle-age,
Harry decided to be done with it.
"I want a Christmas tree!" brought his mom to her knees,
"Oy, a broch!" spat his furious dad,
but deep down dad knew that when Harry flunked Hebrew
the boy would turn goy, and sure enough, he had.

Discarding his yarmulke, Harry chose Monica,
a Mormon from the city Salt Lake;
but she was polygamist and he wasn't into this,
so Catholic Cathy was his next mistake.
After all of the chanting of bead-counting antics,
she told him she wanted 12 girls.
"We'll name them all Mary!" she vowed, so he carried
her fertile non-birth controlled ass back to church.

"Oy Rabbi, these shiksas just have me all mixed up!"
Said Rabbi, "Don't think with your shvantz!
Leave these gentiles alone and go back to your home,
stop ver clempting your mother, stop being a nahr!"
So Hanukkah Harry went back home and married
a nafka that lived down the lane.
"At least she'll put out!" his proud father spouts,
while his mother just mutters, "Oy vey!"