Oh little town of Belvedere
How valuable thou art!
Your juice from ripe potatoes
Warms the heart of this old fart.
Mixed with tonic, ice and lemons
Feigns a camphor, oh so bright
With help from thee I do believe
I'll someday see the light.
I’m glaring at thy deadline
That erupts on Christmas eve.
My sleigh is filled with crap
To wrap, to tag, to bow, to heave.
Forgot to write thy Christmas note
With praises of our tribe.
Because we’re cranky, unemployed,
And heavily imbibed.
So the night is not so silent
And the halls are not too decked.
Three kings were maced at Wall St.
But my spirit is not wrecked.
Hark the bar is stocked with goods
As the big day doth grow near
From my heart to yours I say
It’s boozy Tuesday, time to cheer!