T’was the night before Christmas and all through Cape Breton
I hope this crappy rain don’t stop the presents we’re gettin’
The stockings were hung by the coal stove with care,
Pit-socks and mittens and long underwear.
The damn kids are running wild and won’t go to bed
I shouldn’t of fed them so much sugar, okay ’nuff said.
The wife in her Lulus and I in my ball cap
Can’t figure out how to assemble this crap.
The toy parts are piled all in a heap
“Some assembly required” really means you ain’t gettin’ sleep.
So crack open a beer and try to enjoy,
The five minutes they play with it before it’s destroyed.
Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I thought it was my neighbor stealin’ back his ladder.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Knocked over my beer and the weed I had stashed.
I stubbed my toe on a table and let out a yelp
Then cried like a baby… hey, that hurt like hell.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
Some fat old guy with a six pack of beer.
He looked half tanked, neither lively nor quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.
More rapid than The Eagles at a Centre 200 game,
He tripped over his feet, then threw up again!
“Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen,
On Comet and Ajax and Mr. Clean…” Yup, he’s drunk and a-fixin
To knock down our tree of that I am sure
He’s had too many beers, I can tell by his slur.
His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples how merry
His cheeks were like roses and he was singin’ Katy Perry.
But no Christmas song ever passed o’re his lips
He sang I kissed a girl… and I liked it.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
Then the by-law police came crashin’ through the door
And took away his pipe – you can’t smoke in public no more.
Santa was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed so hard when the old drunk pissed himself!
With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
He knocked over the tree and broke the toy sled.
He spoke not a word, he was too drunk to talk,
He can’t hold his liquor, a true Caper he’s not.
Then laying his finger aside of his nose,
He snorted a line… it was coke I suppose.
Then he sprang to his sleigh, more wired than sound,
More determined than ever not to let the kids down.
And I heard him exclaim as he flew outta sight,
“Merry Christmas Cape Breton, and to all a good night!”