I. The Sinful Witnesses to Saint Nick’s Arrival
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
A. We’re dealing a rat infested home!
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
B. These people are cross dressers – they wear stockings instead of socks
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
C. The kids are on drugs and having hallucinations
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
D. These people sleep naked except for their hats-some weird sect of Mennonites
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
II. The Truth About Saint Nick
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
A. There’s No Rudolph! he was an addition to the Text made by the godless communists in the 1950’s
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
A. He’s a dirty old man (covered in ashes and soot) who has to sneak in your house
B. He’s carrying a bag of toys! He’s senile and probably homeless
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
C. He’s a drunk (red nose)
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
D. He wears hippy type beard
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
E. He’s a smoker – and a pipe at that – probably full of pot
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
F. He’s overweight – not solid and portly like David Grice
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
G. He winks at little kids – he’s probably a pervert
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
H. His friend (the jerk) is an idiot
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
I. This is so disgusting I can’t talk about it – Get a handerkerchief!
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
J. Everyone Knows this should be Merry Christmas!
Many thanks to Dr. Fiddle, D.D. for pulling this from his files and sending it along. I trust it has been a blessing to your bowels and has put you in remembrance of the true reason for the season: being able to judge others for how they celebrate it.
