Twas the night before Xmas and all through the house,
there were empties and butts left around by some louse.
And the best quart I'd hid by the chimney with care,
had been swiped by some bum who'd discovered it there.
(My guests all long since had been poured in their beds)
My mouth full of cotton hung down to my lap,
because I was dying for one more nightcap.
When from the North window there came such a smell,
I sprang to my feet to see what the hell!
And what to my wondering eyes would show up,
but eight bloated reindeer hitched to a beer truck.
With a little old driver who looked like a hick,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.
Staggering outward those reindeer came,
and he hiccuped and belched as he called them by name-
"On Schenley! On Seagram! We ain't got all night!
You too Haig & Haig, and you too, Black & White -
Get up on the roof, get the hell off this wall!
Get going you dummies, we've got a long haul."
So up on the roof went the reindeer and truck,
but a tree branch hit Santa before he could duck.
And then in a twinkling I heard from above-
A hell of a noise that was no cooing dove.
So I pulled in my head and I cocked a sharp ear-
Down the chimney he plunged, landing smack on his rear.
He was dressed all in furs, no cuffs on his pants,
and the way the guy squirmed - well, I guess he had ants.
He said not a word, but went straight to his work;
and missed half the stockings, the plastered old jerk.
Then putting a finger to the end of his nose,
he gave me the bird; up the chimney he rose.
He sprang for the truck at so hasty a pace,
that he tripped on a gable and slid on his face.
But I heard him exclaim as he passed out of sight:
"Merry Christmas you rum-dums! Now really get tight!"