Cool Yule

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the pad Not a hip cat was swingin' and that's nowhere, dad The stove was hung up in that stocking routine Like maybe the fat man would soon make the scene The kids had fell by and just made the street Now I was ready for Snoresville, man was I beat When they started a rumble, it came on real frantic So I opened the window to figure the panic I saw a slick rod that was makin' fat tracks Souped up by eight ponies all wearin' hat racks And a funny old geezer, he was flippin' his lid He told 'em to make it and, man, like they did They were outta the 'chute makin' time like a bat Turnin' the quarter in eight seconds flat They parked by the smokestack in bunches and clusters Then chubby slid down, comin' on like gangbusters His threads were from Cubesville and I had to chuckle In front, not in back, was this Ivy League buckle The mop on his chin hid a button-down collar And with that red nose, dad, he looked like a bawler Like he was the squarest, the most absolute But, let's face it, who cares when he left all that loot He laid the jazz on me and peeled from the gig Wailin' "Have a cool yule, man" and later "like, dig?" For you who don't dig jive, then I'll set you right Merry Christmas, y'all, it's been one drag of a night