'Twas the night before Rorted Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Twitter
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Troll;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the Pork barrel would soon be there;
The Liberals were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Grange danced in their heads;
And Gladys and Daryl had had too much to drink because their coupling had caused such a stink
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Morrison’s hen house fell down with a clatter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and laughed at the Trash..
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
A young Liberal Choir with IPA beer.
With a cough and a splutter, they mounted the gutter
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
Because of course he was a Liberal dick.
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, SCOMO! now, DUTTO! now, BARNS and CANNA
On, BERGER! on TIMMY! on, ISAAC and BRIDGET!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now RORT away! RORT away! RORT away all!"