'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the pad,
Everybody was dancing even old Dad.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the Music Man would soon would be there.
The cats were nestled all snug in their beds,
while the sounds of old noise danced in their heads.
Mama in her short skirt and hose,
had just blown a wig and was tappin’ her toes.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see the Music Man relieving his bladder.
Away from the window I flew like a flash,
I closed the shutters, and searched for some cash.
When what to my wondering eyes should reveal,
10,000 CDs with tremendous appeal.

Just then the Music Man started to ruminate.

He called them out by name On Lighnin’, on Otis and Gate,
on B.B., on Albert and on Freddie too…on T-Bone, on Muddy and on Brother Ray.

On Sonny Boy One and don’t forget Sonny Boy Two.  

On Percy, On Willie and even Doug Sahm from the ruckus emerged such a calm.

It was Christmas Eve and music was to be had, better get milk and cookies for dear old dad.

Now the Music Man was in quite a tizzy, he was spinning around and starting to get dizzy.

Just then he bellowed at the top of his lungs, you don’t want no MP3 under your Christmas tree and you don’t need no Pandora next to your Menorah.  

Then he hopped in his truck and like a good trucker

He shouted…Merry Christmas to all and buy a CD Mother Fucker.