Twas the weekend before Christmas, and all through the place
The relatives were snoring, with drool on their face.
The stockings were flung o’er the furniture with care,
Because sloppy cousin Roger had thrown them all there.
The invaders were snuggled in couches and chairs,
While visions of beer margaritas danced ’round in their heads.
And weird Uncle Mike wore a stained Santa cap,
Having settled his brains for a long winter’s nap.
When down in the basement there arose such a clatter,
We all sprang from our beds to see what was the matter.
Away down the stairs we flew like a flash,
To see which drunk relative had fallen on his ass.
We flipped on the light switch and sucked in a gasp,
Our ears picking up a strange strangle and rasp,
‘Cause old Mother Haggard was sprawled near the door,
A beer-stained bent dixie cup rolled ‘cross the floor.
She was dressed all in fur, from her head to her foot,
Her extremities burnished with ashes and soot.
A bag full of bottles was flung o’er her back,
And she looked like a peddler, bent ‘over her sack.
Her eyes — how they wrinkled, their surface so bleery!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her lips were turned down ’cause she’d set herself low,
And the hairs on her chin were as white as the snow.
Our eyes all agoggle, we stared down at the sight,
As she rolled on the concrete, her makeup a fright,
Mom Haggard looked up and wiped beer off her chin,
Sweeping an arm ’round the room with a beer-soaked grin.
“Now Basher! now, Cancer! now, Prissy and Vixen!
On, Vomit! On, Stupid! on Domler and Glitzen!
To the top of the stairs! to the edge of the wall!
Get the hell away from me, get the hell away all!”
And away we all flew as she stomped up the stairs,
A glistening cobweb draped over her hairs,
And I heard her exclaim, ‘ere she stomped out of sight,
“Kiss my ass Father Christmas, I’m bein’ naughty tonight!”