'Twas Da Night Before Christmas

An UffDa Norske version from Uncle Thorvald

Twas da night before Christmas I began to relax to a point
ven I heard creatures a stirring all over da yoint.

My old socks vere hung by da chimney wit care,
in hopes dat dere odor would get them creatures out of here.

Da kids vere all nestled all snug in dere beds,
vile visions uff fresh lefsa danced in dere heads.
Me and Ma in our skivies vith down pillows of goose
had yust settled down for a long winter's snooze.

When out on da lawn dere arose such a clatter,
I hid under da sheets til ma saw what was da matter.
She flew to da window in a 300 pound dash,
tore da shutters off dere hinges and flew open da sash.

When what to our wondering eyes should appear on da loose,
but a miniature sled and eight tiny reinmoose.

With dat tubby old codger looking frostbit and lost,
I knew in a moment dat it must be dat Claus.

More rapid dan herring his coursers dey came,
as he bellered and svore and called dem by name.

"Now Odin! Now Ingman! Now Gunner and Vixon!
On Nordal! On Olaf! On Agnew and Nixon!

As I drew in my head and vas turning around,
down da fake fireplace came old man Claus vith a bound.
He vas dressed kind of goofy from da front to da back,
and his clothes vere stretched out from putting on too much fat.

His eyes, dey vere bloodshot. His nose full of ooze.
His cheeks vere like roses and his breadthe smelled like booze.
Da stump of a stogie he held tight in his teeth,
and da smoke dat encircled him stunk like a burnt out wreath.

He spoke not a word but vent straight to his work,
pocketing all my valuables dat crafty old jerk.
And laying his finger outside of his nose,
he pushed me aside and up my fake fireplace he rose.

He sprang to his sled and to his moose yelled out clear,
"Ive got all der goodies, let's get da heck outta here!"

But I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight,
"You should never leave your fireplace unlocked over night!"