'Twas the night before Christmas;
there wasn't a sound.
Not a possum was stirring; no-one
was around.
We'd left on the table some tucker
and beer,
Hoping that Santa Claus soon would
be here;
We children were snuggled up safe in
our beds,
While dreams of pavlova danced
'round in our heads;
And Mum in her nightie, and Dad
in his shorts,
Had just settled down to watch
TV sports.
When outside the house a mad
ruckus arose;
Loud squeaking and banging woke
us from our doze.
We ran to the screen door,
peeked cautiously out,
Snuck onto the deck, then let
out a shout.
Guess what had woken us up from
our snooze,
But a rusty old Ute pulled by
eight mighty 'roos.
The cheerful man driving was
giggling with glee,
And we both knew at once who
this plump bloke must be.
Now, I'm telling the truth it's
all dinki-di,
Those eight kangaroos fairly
soared through the sky.
Santa leaned out the window to
pull at the reins,
And encouraged the 'roos, by
calling their names.
'Now, Kylie! Now, Kirsty! Now,
Shazza and Shane!
On Kipper! On, Skipper! On,
Bazza and Wayne!
Park up on that water tank. Grab
a quick drink,
I'll scoot down the gum tree. Be
back in a wink!'
So up to the tank those eight
kangaroos flew,
With the Ute full of toys, and Santa
Claus too.
He slid down the gum tree and
jumped to the ground,
Then in through the window he
sprang with a bound.
He had bright sunburned cheeks
and a milky white beard.
A jolly old joker was how he
appeared.
He wore red stubby shorts and
old thongs on his feet,
And a hat of deep crimson as
shade from the heat.
His eyes - bright as opals - Oh!
How they twinkled!
And, like a goanna, his skin was
quite wrinkled!
His shirt was stretched over a
round bulging belly
Which shook when he moved, like
a plate full of jelly.
A fat stack of prezzies he flung
from his back,
And he looked like a swaggie
unfastening his pack.
He spoke not a word, but bent
down on one knee,
To position our goodies beneath
the yule tree.
Surfboard and footy-ball shapes
for us two.
And for Dad, tongs to use on the
new barbeque.
A mysterious package he left for
our Mum,
Then he turned and he winked and
he held up his thumb;
He strolled out on deck and his
'roos came on cue;
Flung his sack in the back and
prepared to shoot through.
He bellowed out loud as they
swooped past the gates-
MERRY CHRISTMAS to all, and
goodonya, MATES!'
