By Kevin Boyle
‘Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through The Rock
People were still waiting at the ferry dock
On the chimney they hung, hope and a prayer
Hoping the Mayor might actually care.
But it was folly to think he might give a hoot
His disdain for The Rock you can hardly dispute
Thoughts about the Mayor I quickly dismissed
And instead went to work on my Christmas List
I didn’t want much, not gloves nor a tie
But something was missing, something awry
The list stayed empty as I went to bed
Visions of what should be danced in my head
And then out on the street 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.
There was a little old fellow, in red he was dressed
The look on his face said he was more than distressed
Oh Santa, Oh Santa! I called him by name
You don’t look so jolly and that’s a shame!
His sack full of toys fell at his feet
Then said in despair, I might need a whiskey neat.
It’s been another year of a lot of talk
For crying out loud, where’s the boardwalk?!
Now I’ve gotta go back to the dreary North Pole
And get a supply of stocking coal
Oh Santa, Oh Santa, I know what you mean
The effort we see is kind of obscene
Bring your coal for Skanska and Parks and EDC too
And grant us our wish for a real work crew
His eyes gave a twinkle as he jumped on his sleigh
Rockaway, Rockaway why do you stay?
He aimed his sleigh towards the bright church steeple
But of course you stay, because of the people
As he flew overhead into the night
I heard him exclaim,
Rockaway, Rockaway, Keep up the Fight!
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