'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a pussy cat was stirring, we don't have a mouse!

The stockings aren't hung by the mantel with care
The children aren't coming for Christmas this year

Tom and I nestled all snug in our beds
And it's not visions of sugar plums going on in his head

I in my jammies and Tom in his socks
Have just settled in after "Scotch on the rocks"

When out on the road there arose such a clatter
We jumped from the bed to see what was the matter

Raced across the room, drew the curtains aside
Frightened Bubbles and Murphy who were peering outside

The moon wasn't shining on new fallen snow
It only stopped raining a few minutes ago

When what to our wondering eyes should appear
One lone Christmas reveller, full of whiskey and beer

He didn't have a sleigh, not a reindeer in sight
Just one poor little dog, barking with all his might

He didn't have a pack full of toys on his back
Just a bottle of wine in a brown paper sack

He had slipped in the mud in the middle of the road
And Tom and I could see he was carrying a load

He was covered in mud right down to his toes
And the only thing red was the tip of his nose

He mumbled and grumbled in words that he knew
And it wasn't reindeer's names, but we recognized a few

He sure didn't remotely resemble St. Nick
He wasn't very merry, nimble or quick

His eyes weren't twinkly and he didn't have a round belly
But his legs when he moved, wobbled like jelly

He must have been thinking of all the rings left to do
Filling the stockings, putting coal into shoes
For he made a great effort to get to his knees
Looked all around and shouted with glee

He knew we were watching so we drew back out of sight
For he hollered, "Merry Christmas you old farts, and a jolly good night!"   Submitted By: NULL