Christ's Mass

Twas the night before Christ's Mass

So quiet and dark

As we lay in our bed

In the old trailer park

There were no stockings hung

There's no chimney in here

No gifts to present

No holiday cheer

When outside our house

There arose such a clamor

Like someone was beating

Our door with a hammer

I threw back the blankets

Pulled the 9 from the drawer

Put one in the chamber

With the safety set sure

I slipped down the hall and

Through the window sash saw

Twas our old drunken neighbor

With the long lower jaw

I opened the door and

Asked why are you here?

He leaned on the door jam

With his bottle of beer

"Where the hell is your lights,

What's wrong with ya'll?"

In his stupor, he said,

"I don't get it, at all...

why ya can't just do Christmas

Like the rest of us do."

I just shook my head

As I pulled the door to.

"There's no need to explain

What you don't want to hear,

And that bottle you're holding

Is 'your' holiday cheer.

This tradition has nothing

To with our Lord

This isn't his birthday

I can say that for sure.

But it's something the Romans

Who murdered the Christ

Concocted along with

The rest of their lies, so

So go home, sleep it off,

Maybe one day you'll find

That this all came about

Cuz the blind lead the blind"

And I heard him exclaim as

He stumbled from sight

"Well, I happen to like it

So screw you and good night!"