[Dixielandjazz] Twas The Night Before Christmas

[Stephen Barbone]

T'was the night before Christmas and all through the land,
Not a jazz man was stirring, no noise from my band.
And I as the leader nestled snug in my chair,
Was thinking about gigs, hey who got my share?
When out past the dance floor there arose such a clatter,
I sprang out of my funk, what could be the matter?

Out past the band stand I flew like a flash,
Out past the coat room and up to the sash.
I looked out the window, upwards and then,
Saw a miniature sleight pulled by eight hip sidemen.
With a little band leader so lively and quick,
That I knew in a moment it must be Saint Nick.

Faster than lightening, towards me they came,
As he pointed and shouted and called them by name.
Now clarinet, banjo, guitar, piano and drums,
Up bass, trombone, washboard, there's none of us bums.
Onto the rooftop they landed with glee,
A full jazz band swinging, completely clam free.

And then in a moment, the whole building shook,
Down came Saint Nick with  filled up gig book.
He was happy and joyous, gigs bulged from his sack,
Like a proper advance man who had mastered the knack.
His uniform sparkled, business surely was booming,
And he said it was time jazz music went zooming.

As he sat on my band stool, he broke out into laughs,
First writing up contracts, then signing the drafts.
He booked ninety concerts, well above union list,
And with bank authorizations put the check in my fist.
Tore up my loans and said not to fret,
For he knew a good fairy who would pay off my debt.

Then laying his finger aside of his nose,
He gave me a nod, to the rooftop he rose.
He sprang into his sleigh and gave out a cry,
As he headed those sidemen up into the sky.
"Merry Christmas to all, and lots of good cheer."
"May Our Kind Of Music be popular next year."

Peace and Love you,
Steve Barbone