Twas the day before Christmas when all through the house
just one creature was stirring, that dirty old mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hope that our guests would not leave us bare.
The children were all waking up from their beds, to put their last plugs for gifts in our heads.
And Momma in her kerchief and I in my cap, were thanking for cash instead of the credit card trap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, who was that strange man climbing the house with a ladder?
Away from the window I flew like a flash, only in time to hear a clatter, bang, crash.
The sun on the breast of the new fallen snow, gave a blanket of softness to the strange man below.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a flashing red light a top a car pulling over here.
With a little old driver so lively and quick, I new in a moment, this can't be St. Nick.
For I knew it was too early for him to arrive, as I watched him take the stranger for a long winters drive...