Worked with a woman named Minnie. One Christmas eve long ago. When I asked "What you doing this evening ?". Minnie took on a seasonal glow. She said she'd be waiting for Santa. She'd be wearing a bright red bow. Chorus:. Minnie And Santa. Minnie And Santa. What they're up to only. Heaven knows she wrote on a card. "Don't take it so hard we're headed for the North Pole". Now Minnie could not be persuaded. That Santa just did not exist. She swore if she put up some mistletoe. Santa'd come give her a kiss. And there where she'd hung up her stockings. All in their silky soft sheen. She'd be laying in wait on a bear skin rug. Where the cookies and milk could be seen. Chorus:. Minnie And Santa. Minnie And Santa. What they're up to only. Heaven knows she wrote on a card. "Don't take it so hard we're headed for the North Pole". (musical interlude). Now Minnie was older and wiser. Like a dear old Auntie to me. But the night that she ran off with Santa. Was a real epiphany. Chorus:. Minnie And Santa. Minnie And Santa. What they're up to only. Heaven knows she wrote on a card. "Don't take it so hard we're headed for the North Pole". Next Xmas I passed by the bakery. Staring out from on top of a cake. Was jolly old Santa with a big silly grin. And a gal in silk stockings and lace. Oh Minnie and Santa....