T’was The Night Before Christmas – Aussie Version

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Night  Before Christmas
In Aussie Land

‘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!’Unknown-11