A Visit from St. Mick (Aussie Style)

A Visit From St. Mick (Aussie Style)

(With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)

'Twas the night before Christmas, in the land of Oz,
Uncle Jocko was over, you know, the one with the schnoz.
The Fosters were flowing, there was a smell in the air,
We knew what it was, we just didn't know where.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While we put ice bags on top of our heads.
We were waiting for St. Mick, the one with the swag,
Last year he showed up driving a Jag.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Told the wife to check it out before she gets fatter.
Away to the window she flew like a flash,
She must have thought he was bringing some cash.

The moon on her breasts gave me a big thrill,
I had better slow down or I'll be needing a pill.
I went to the window and put on my socks,
To my surprise, I saw a beer wagon towed by eight tiny crocs.

The driver was bent over, he seemed to be sick,
I knew in a moment - It must be St. Mick!
They were crawling real slow, they must have been lame,
He was slurring his words as he called them by name.

"Now Ripper!, now Gripper!, now Poofter and Vixen!
I'd remember the rest, if I wasn't so Blitzen!
To the top of the porch and over the walls,
If you can't fly any higher, I'll rip off your balls!"

So, up to the housetop the crocodiles flew,
With a wagon of Vegemite - and St. Mick, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the wall,
The scraping and scratching of each tiny claw.

My head was spinning, I was feeling quite moldy,
When St. Mick waltzes in, drinkin' a coldie!
He was all dressed in leather, but his clothes were all wet,
It was hot out tonight, he smelled like Goana sweat.

A bundle of Beer he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a swagman just opening his pack.
His eyes, they were bloodshot! His sneer, how scary!
His cheeks and his nose were as red as a cherry;

"St. Mick!", I exclaimed, "Have you got something for us?
I've been drinkin' all night, my right leg must be porous!"
With a shake of his head, drool sprayed from his lips,
He spotted the women and grabbed for their hips.

He missed with his grab and went straight back to work,
He filled all the beer steins; then turned with a jerk,
And sticking his finger inside of his nose,
Blew out a big one that scared off some crows.

He fell into the wagon and broke some of the booze,
And away they all flew like they were chased by some roos.
We had enough coldies for our party to liven,
"Happy Christmas to all, and don't you go driven'!"

tlc - 1991