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