[rating=9.00]
Adapted from “A Visit from St. Nicholas” by Clement Clarke Moore
Twas three weeks before Christmas and all through my house
Christmas spirit had grown to the size of a mouse;
No stockings were hung, our tree still in its box
And the wife and I spoke with harrumphs of “humbugs”;
Our presents bought, sure, though as yet unwrapped
The holiday cheer was, at very best, lax;
‘Tween traffic, and malls, and long Christmas lists
Frustrations ran high as the desire for gifts;
We turned to TV to take minds off of things,
“Let’s see if there’s anything that seems worth streaming”;
Loading up Netflix on our old PS3,
Searching for anything to entertain we;
With the glow of TV transfixing our eyes,
Nothing worth watching, that we could surmise;
Our cursor, it rambled, meandering on,
When suddenly it fell, and we agreed upon;
Our Grinchiness melting with shouts of “hooray”
Twas the new Christmas special from ol’ Bill Murray;
In quick succession, the guest stars they came,
‘Tween songs and comedy, along for the play;
“Now Clooney! now, Schwartzman! now, Miley and Poehler!
On Phoenix, Rashida, Jenny Lewis and more!
We’ll make them smile, wanted or not,
Make music and laughter with this Christmas plot!”
An old school approach with inklings of meta,
TV on Christmas has never been better;
An hour we watched, laughing all while
Our joy it was growing by miles and miles;
“It’s Christmas,” we said, “We’d nearly forgotten,”
“We see no reason we should be so downtrodden!”
My cynicism waned, turning around
From the joy and the magic Bill Murray has found;
A sharp looking suit and a mic in his hand,
On piano, Paul Shaffer, from Letterman’s band;
Delivering gifts both cookin’ and bright,
Something to warm you on cold Christmas nights;
I know what you’re thinking, “No never, not me”
“I’ll never be caught in Christmas’s glee!”
“This cannot happen, not ever, not now,”
“Nothing so saccharine can unfurrow my brow!”
Heed careful my word friend, I’m telling you this,
You’ll soon be caught up in pure Christmas bliss;
You’ll carol, you’ll bake, remembering times
When Christmas was special and magic and fine;
Your smiles will broaden, you’ll laugh and you’ll revel,
Melting the hearts of the ardent of rebels;
Thanks to Bill Murry, and S. Coppola too,
Who’ve given a hearty, and warm Christmas stew;
And then when it’s ended, you’ll sit and you’ll smile,
Shortly thereafter, like us in a while,
You’ll search for the boxes hid in your garage,
Delighting and merry in the Christmas barrage;
Hanging up stockings, you’ll hum Christmas tunes,
And assemble the tree, like my wife and I, too;
A spring in your step, a song in your heart,
The spirit of Christmas no longer depart;
A brand new tradition, on Netflix, you hear?
You’ll watch Murray Christmas, year after year.
One Response