autumnfade

Beatnik Christmas-

T'was the night before Yule Tide, And all through the pad.

Not a hipcat was swinging, And, that's nowhere Dad.

The kid's was all hung, on that stocking routine.

Hoping the fatboy would soon make the scene.

I was ready for snoresville, Man was I beat.

My main lady and I, were decked out to sleep.

When I heard this here rumble that came on real frantic.

So I slid to the window, to figure the panic.

There was this sleek rod, a laying fast tracks.

Sup'ed up by 8 ponies, all wearing hat racks.

They were out of the shoot, making time like a bat.

And they rounded the corner in 8 seconds flat.

A screwy old geezer was flippin' his lid.

He told them to make it and man like they did.

They was up on my chimney in bunches and clusters.

Then Chubby slid down, coming on like gang busters.

Like he was from nowhere, the most absolute.

But lets face it, who cares when he left all that loot.

He layed the jive on me as he sprang from the gig.

Saying have a 'Cool Yule' Man. Later, like dig