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The Real Night Before Christmas
'Tis the night before Christmas,
And all through my head
Not a thought is coherent;
My brain is quite dead.
The minutes drag on,
My eyelids keep closing.
I am done with this gig!
I'd rather be dozing.
We make quite the sight,
My reindeer and I
As we jostle and jingle
And lurch through the sky.
As for the kiddos,
Those ungrateful brats,
They're asleep in their beds,
Prob'ly snuggled in with their cats.
They have no idea--
Not a hint, not a clue!--
Of the toil and suffering
I am forced to go through.
Every year, it's the same:
Billions of stops in one night!
I don't think it's worth it
For a new truck or new kite.
Christmas used to be more,
Used to be about sharing;
But now we've swapped presents
for genuine caring.
What happened to love?
How did this come to be?
And of all the do-gooders,
Why did it have to be me?
Oh! how I am mocked
By those morons down there
With their carols, their hats
Even their facial hair!
I simply can’t stand it.
Now let’s get this straight:
I never killed Grandma,
Nor gained that much weight.
I never scoffed at a reindeer
Because of his nose.
I’m not a racist,
But that’s how it goes.
My self-esteem decreases
With each coming year.
I’ve developed depression
And taken to beer.
I’m addicted to cookies;
I have diabetes.
Why can’t kids, with the milk,
Instead leave me some Wheaties?
I need some time off,
Retirement, better yet.
I could put down my pipe
And pick up an e-cigarette.
Alas, this is my life;
I fear it’s a lost cause.
Merry Christmas to all? Ha!
To all except Santa Claus.
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This is a parody of Clement Clarke Moore's famous 'Twas the Night Before Christmas and is best read with the same rhythm in mind.