T'was The Night Before Christmas (I Need A Fucki'n Beer)

T'was the night before Christmas and this is my house.
Pa was asleep, the fat drunken louse.
Ma was upstairs with her dildo on high.
My brother the crack head was trying to stay dry.

The kiddies we gone, totally snoozed.
Cause we weren't looking and so they got boozed.
As we picked them up and took them to bed,
Johnny boy puked and my face got all red.

I had just finished one beer and was ready for bed.
When I heard a great band that was not in my head.
I ran to the window and what did I see?
My gay cousin Ernie was taking a pee.

He looked on the roof and gave a great squeal.
I had to go out to see what was the deal.
A man with a sack was way on the top.
He was dressed all in black, so I called a cop.

I went back in the house to go and pass out.
When this big guy in red let out a big shout.
I reached for a gun and then I took aim.
I shot not to kill, but only to maim.

The fat bugger ducked, and I hit the fire.
The scotch bottle shattered and sent the flames higher.
The big jolly elf was totally pissed.
And as he turned on me, I was sorry I missed.

He looked into his sack and took out a small stick.
It's fuse was 12 inches, more than my dick.
And into the fire he threw this big candle.
It caused a big boom, more than I knew I could handle.

He then came right at me with a wood baseball bat.
He roared so damned loud, it freaked out my cat.
I ran really fast, and hid under the couch.
But he got my legs and I cried out "Ouch!!!!!!!!!"

Well, not really I lie, I said something worse.
But...ah what the fuck, I let out a curse.
I hobbled on out from my hidey place.
And then that fat bastard threw soot in my face.

I screamed and I cried and fell over a vase.
Then he sprayed my eyes, with a whole can of mace.
I fell to the ground as I called out "Stop"
But the shit head he gave me, a single last pop.

He then picked me up, and gave a big smile.
As I grabbed a tooth that had fell on the tile.
He gave me a gift and then he disappeared.
The night could be over, but not quite I feared.

Santa's a bastard, he doesn't fight fair.
As a trophy he came back, and took a lock of hair.
He has won this round, and maybe next year.
I'll skip fuckin Christmas and hide in Zaire.