'Twas the night before Christmas, at Keith Buzzard's house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
That part of the story, should make us think twice
'Cause usually Keith's place is just crawlin' with mice.
Out back were wild critters, and as it might happen,
Keith wanted to catch them, cause he was still trappin'
On all of the trails he hung dozens of snares,
In hopes that the coyotes would soon come through there.
He was not well sleeping, ol' Buzz had a hunch
That he just might have eaten bad vittles for lunch.
Then quick to the window, he ran like a dumbo,
Tore open the shutters and threw up his gumbo.
Then off in the woods he heard such a commotion,
He might have caught something, 'least he had that notion.
He ran from the window and ran to the door,
But he was still sick, and he threw up some more.
Then out in the woods, he beheld such a sight,
And he quickly determined that all was not right.
What he saw near his sets was a guy in a sleigh
Pulled by eight reindeer deer with snares in their way!
By the time Buzzard saw that it must be Saint Nick,
The snares grabbed the deer's legs and stopped them right quick.
"Holy smoke! What the heck!" old Saint Nick started cryin'
Then the sleigh tipped or'e sideways, and toys went a flyin'
So if you are wondering, yes it did appear,
That Keith Buzzard had snared all of Santa's reindeer.
And Santa himself had been thrown from the sled
Crashed into a tree and got bonked on the head.
He snared Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,
Noosed Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen.
From the first to the last deer, he'd snared every one,
And knocked Santa unconscious, is what he had done.
Keith Buzzard knew this was serious business,
And what he had done might have just ruined Christmas.
Without Santa Claus to deliver their toys,
The world would be filled with some sad girls and boys.
Keith Buzzard could just hear the children all sobbin',
So he picked up the phone and called his friend, Paul Dobbins.
Keith thought that Paul Dobbins just might save the day,
He could pass for Santa. Could he drive a sleigh?
He'd get a white beard, and he'd glue it on Paul,
And put Santa's suit on him, be it not too small.
Paul answered the phone and he just said "Hello"
When he heard Buzzard's voice, he then just said "NO!"
But Keith kept on babbling 'bout Santa Claus' loss,
And Paul figured Buzzard had been in the sauce.
Paul did not like calls coming so late in the night.
As he hung up the phone, he cussed Buzzard out right.
Poor old Keith Buzzard knew not what to do,
With the sleigh and the toys, and Saint Nicholas too.
Saint Nick had not moved since that blow to the head,
"Oh no!" Buzzard cried, "Maybe Santa is dead!"
And he knew the rumors would never be stilled,
'Bout Buzzard the man who got Santa Claus killed.
To him there was only one plan that made sense,
He'd cover his tracks and destroy evidence.
He'd deliver the presents himself if need be
The children would find them there, under the tree.
While visions of sugar plumbs danced in their head,
They never would know that old Santa was dead.
Then he'd make up a story, and tell all his friends
Why Santa Claus would not be coming again.
He would say that old Santa ran off with some gal,
Or wait, better still, he could blame it on Hal.
Then as Keith Buzzard turned and was looking around,
He saw Santa Claus getting up off the ground.
With a nod of his head he uprighted the sleigh,
And with one more nod put the presents away.
'Twas then that Keith Buzzard, knew not to despair,
'Twas then Keith remembered the break-away snares.
He mounted his sleigh, to his team gave a shout.
The deer all lunged forward, and they all broke out.
He rose to the sky and was speeding away,
And as always, old Santa had something to say.
As he flew out of sight, Buzzard heard him extol,
"Merry Christmas to all, even you yuh suckhole."
