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Twas the night before Fitzmas , when all through the White House
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Patrick Fitzgerald would never come there.
The Roves and the Libbys were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of grand jury indictments in their heads.
And Bush in his ‘kerchief, andRove in his cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long unpleasant nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Bush sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window Bush flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw away his stash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to Bush's wondering eyes should appear,
But Libby and Rove in bright orange prison gear...
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment I had to call Dick..
More rapid than eagles I shouted his name
And he whistled, and shouted, and finally came.
"Now Coulter! now, Krystal ! now, Frist and DeLay!
On, Buchanan ! On, Brownback ! on, on Where's Babs .. What a day
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane Wilma did fly,
This is so bad I just want to cry.
So up to the White House-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of indictments.., I now know Rove always knew.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Richard Nixon's ghost came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of inddictments he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a viper, saying he just had to come back
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had everything to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, he called Buih a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Fitzmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
"
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