Twas A California Christmas

T'was the night before Christmas in a California town, You could tell by the rock and shake of the ground. I lay in my bed, my head all 'a wonder, Thinking not now...it just must be thunder. When all of a sudden, I flew from my bed, Tripped on the ceiling, and fell on my head. I arose in a flash, to see what I could, And stopped in my tracks, for in fact there he stood. He stood there before me, all covered in dust, His hat all in tatters, his clothes all 'a muss. I thought for a moment he seemed kinda dazed, His eyes were aglow, but they seemed awfully glazed. I called out to Carol, get up, come 'a runnin, Come see this old fat guy, he really is somethin. He said not a word, but went right to his sack, He started to load it and said he'd be back! He went right to work, he knew just what to do, He took all that we had, even our stew. He finished so quick, it just took a wink, In a moment he took, even the sink. I ran to the window, and threw open the sash, Flung back the curtains, gee I was rash. And to my amazement there out on the lawn, Were Donner and Blitzin, Maurice and Ron. Then Carol came 'a runnin, she jumped to the window, Just in time to spy, Santa's new bimbo. She was tall, she was blond, quite preppy you know, I guess she was bitchin, in her dress cut so low. I ran to the phone, just all in a tizzy, dialed 911 help, and found it quite busy. Off to the closet, my gun it was there, I'd shoot that old bastard, and not even care. Then Carol said softly, my love it's all right, Let him have those old items, it is Christmas night. So....... I yelled to the world, I wanted to warn ya, Christmas is way different, in California. Copyright 1995 Written for Carol by R.C. Dawson of Richmond, Virginia Thanks For Visiting