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The Night Before Christmas (Mad Magazine Version)

Topic: holidays

The Night Before Christmas (Mad Magazine Version)

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the pad

Not a hipster was swinging, not even old Dad;

The chimney was draped in that stocking routine,

In hopes that "The Fat Man" would soon make the scene'

The wee cats were laid out all cool in their beds,

While sounds of the "Sugar Blues" wailed through their heads;

And my chick in her "Castro" and me on the floor,

Had just conked out cold for a forty-wink snore,

When out of left field there came on such a ribble,

I broke from my sack to see what was this dribble!

To the glasspane I cut like a B-Western movie,

Tuned in on the action, and, Man, was it groovy!

The moon and the snow were, like, faking together,

Which made the scene rock in the Day People weather,

When, what to there peepers should come on real queer,

But a real crazy sleigh, and eight swinging reindeer,

With a hopped-up old driver on some frantic kick,

I was hip in a flash that it must be St. Nick.

Much faster than "Bird" blew, this group was no drag,

And he rocked, and he rolled, and he pegged them by tag:

"Like, Dasher! Like, Dancer! Like, Prancer and Vixen!

Go, Comet! Go, Cupid! Go, Donner and Blitzen!

Fly over the shack! Make it over the pad!

Now cut out, Man! Cut out, Man! Cut out like mad!"

As sidemen in combos pick up as they stomp,

When they swing with the beat of my Dixieland Romp,

So up to the top of my bandstand they flew,

With the sleigh full of loot, and St. Nicholas, too.


ALPHA v0.3