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T’was the night before X-mas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not one starving mouse.
Old stockings were hung by the windows with care,
They’d been worn a long time and they needed the air.

The children were huddled all four to a bed,
A wish for more blankets filled each sleepy head.
Their Pa in his skivvies, their Ma dressed so slight,
Were settled on down, after their nightly fight.

When out on the lawn there was heard such a clatter,
They trudged to the door to see what was the matter?
The moon on the crust of the sooty, gray snow,
Helped light up the slum where old Santa need go.

Then what to their bleary, red eyes did appear,
But a battered old sleigh loaded down with cold beer.
With a little old driver all sloppy and fat,
Who climbed down from his perch, then fell flat on his back.

As they pulled in their heads, getting ready to run,
Santa said with a burp, “Hey lets have some fun.
Then he entered the house and they saw with some fright,
He must have been boozing it up most the night!

His beard was all matted, face read as a beet,
His coat was unbuttoned, boots on the wrong feet.
A smoking cigar stub between bluish lips,
His moustache encrusted with frozen ‘nose drips’.

They asked  “Where’s the presents you brought, Santa dear”?
“To heck with the presents: here have a cold beer.”
He then staggered around leaving presents askew,
While mumbling something about reindeer stew.

Then he climbed to his sleigh, to his team gave a bellow–
One couldn’t help think, “What an ornery old fellow.”
“Now Dasher and Dancer; you pathetic flea bags–
 And Prancer and Vixen, arthritic old hags.”
 
“On Comet and Cupid and you better move quick,
Or this boot, (size eleven) sure gives a good kick.
And Donda and Blitzen this goes for you too;
I wasn’t just kidding when I talked about stew.”

The sled pulled away leaving ruts in the lawn.
The kid’s ma and pa were just glad he was gone.
But they heard him exclaim as he weaved to and fro,
“Let’s get to heck home, before we have snow!”