Twas the night before Kushmas, when all thro’ the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The bongs and rigs were set on the table with care,
In hopes that Kush Kringle soon would be there;
The stoners were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of moonrocks danc’d in their heads,
And Mama in her beanie and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long stoner’s nap-
When out on the lawn there arose such a bubbling,