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Twas the night before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thru the bus, I fell on my keester and wanted to cuss.
The stockings were hung by the Jake brake with care, hoping it worked or drivers beware.
The froum was nestled all snug in their beds, While fear of plastic coaches danc’d in our heads.
When out in the park there arose such a clatter, It was Tom and Jon, what could be the matter?
Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the window, they were both talking trash.
The moon on the park gave view of the show, to all of the happenings going on below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, Jeff of all people with bottles of beer.
But Tom with anger, so lively and quick, I knew at that moment he wasn’t St. Nick.
As Jeff was trying to ply them with booze. Jon kept yelling, “I want those darn dues”!
Tom laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, he called Jon a boze.
Jon sprung to his Prevost, as Jeff gave a whistle, Tom turned around and shot him a missile.
Jon was the one who shouted with a roar, may a tick infected Yack back into your underwear drawer!
But Jeff did exclaim, before he drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
Harry
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