'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
windows are rattling from some Boom Car louse.
He cruises the streets with never a care,
his speakers a thumpin', it just isn't fair.

The children were frightened, awake in their beds,
while hip hop bass notes pound in their heads.
And Mama with ear plugs, to mute the dumb sap,
had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out on the road there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
reflects spinning hubcaps on objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
an obnoxious Boom Car, just what I feared.

With a thug for a driver, so ill-mannered and thick,
I knew in a moment he must be a prick.
More noisy than thunder, the vibrations they came,
so I hollered and shouted and called him a name.

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
the decibels strengthen and rose to the sky
so up to the stop sign the driver he flew,
with a trunk full of speakers and power amps too.

And then, in a twinkling, I hit the roof
and called the police to report the big goof.
As I hung up the phone and was turning around,
up drove a cop without making a sound.

He was chubby and plump, a right dour old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
he wrote a citation, then turned to the jerk.
And flipping the finger and thumbing my nose,
I smiled at the punk, as his anger rose.

The cop sprang to his car and gave a low whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a silent night!"