Lump of Coal

Twas the night before the 25th of December
All through the house there was crap strewn about
The cats were hissing and smacking each other
And nary a dry Kleenex to be found

I and my wife had just settled down
To an evening of computer games, each to his own
When suddenly from the front door there came such a sound
As if religious proselytizers knocking thereupon

That turned out to be the case and we were then faced
With odd little beings who demanded that we accept
That the true meaning of this cold icy time of year
Was to celebrate the birth of someone who was born sometime in March as far as anybody who ever actually studied the subject could ever figure

So we listened and nodded and uh-huhed in agreement
And they soon went away
Jesus Christ!