'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
not a damn thing was movin', and no one was soused.
The kids were in bed, we had nine at the time,
the wife in her curlers, was lookin real fine.
A cold wind was blowin, up the holler it moaned,
all ten dogs on the porch howled and groaned.
The boys were all dreamin' of fishin' and guns,
Ya see, sports like them, why, there's no better fun!
The girls in their feminine dreams were attuned,
to getting those gallons of Wal-Mart perfume.
The wife wanted jewelry, like rings with big rocks,
I just wanted my Chevy down off the blocks.
Then out in the yard, such a noise did commence,
like something was caught in our barb wire fence.
I ran like the wind! And I saw pretty quick,
the man makin the racket was good ol' St. Nick.
You may think of Santa in your own mind's eye,
dressed in red and white suit, but I've got a suprise.
That old boy's an Arkie, from up near Mt. Gaylor,
he married his cousin, and they live in a trailer.
On Christmas he has a nice sleigh for his rig,
and he hooks the thing up to six razorback pigs.
He climbed on the roof, with his bag full of goodies,
he backed down the fireplace, all dirty and sooty.
Fat legs in his britches, chubby hands in his mittens,
I must admit from that he looked a bit like Bill Clinton.
He turned toward the tree, his eyes all aglow,
he was an Arkansas boy from his head to his toe.
His neck was a red one, his shirt said 'lite beer',
he had no red hat on, but his cap read 'John Deere'.
He left all the presents, with an air of delight,
then it was back to the chimney, and into the night.
He ran into the yard, threw his bag in the sleigh,
then he yelled at the dogs, "Get the hell out the way!"
I ran out to ask him why he brought such good cheer,
but instead I just asked him did he bring me some beer?
Then I heard him exclaim, as those pigs took to flight,
"Merry Christmas to all....now I need a bud lite. |
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