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‘Twas the night before Christmas, and out in the garage
There sat in the corner, a classic old Dodge
My Power Wagon, near ready to go
To all of next season’s Rally's and Truck Pulls
Its perfect Green body, with Black fenders and trim
Black leather interior, the seats are just right
A Top loader shifter coming up through the floor
It sits with the hood up, not quite running yet
The problem elusive, but simple I bet
The 230 Flat Head from so long ago.
“Why won’t you run? I can’t take it no more.”
Now freshly rebuilt, To climb up those Hills.
Just thinking about it gives me a chill
All of that power, all of that torque
I can’t make it run. I feel like a dork.
I’m about to turn in, and go off to bed
Thinking a good sleep should help clear my head
When ever so slightly, I hear someone’s laughter
And jingle bells ringing, and hooves pitter-patter
“Is this for real?” I thought to myself
Could it be? The jolly old elf?
I opened the side door and had a look out
The sleigh that I saw removed any doubt
Across the street, he was making the rounds
Rooftop to rooftop, in leaps and bounds
Then he was gone, but the sleigh still remained
For what happened next, I’ll have to explain
As I turned around, what do you know
Santa Claus himself, the star of the show
Was standing there, grinning, right there by the Truck
His hands were greasy his shirt was un tucked
I stammered “S-Santa?!” And he started to snicker
I took a deep breath to calm down my ticker
He was checking it over, no angle undone
And then he said nicely, “Can I hear it run?”
I hated to say it, had no other choice
This problem I had with my Power Wagon's voice
“I wish that we could, but I’m afraid not tonight.
It’ll turn over, but it simply won’t light.I know it’s ignition, of this I am sure.
But I’m out of ideas. Do you have a cure?”
He pondered a moment, then scratched his chin.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you jump in?”
I climbed in the Truck as he fiddled around
And he said “Aha! You have a bad ground.
This wire on the coil should be attached here.”
And over he moved it, without any fear.
“Hit it!” he said, his grin growing wide
I pushed in the clutch and let out a sigh
I wiggled the shifter and hit the ol’ key…
And it fired at once. I howled with glee!
The Old Truck was running and sounded so good
Santa smiled and grinned, as he
Shut down the Butterfly Hood
I killed it and jumped out, unable to speak
Santa had fixed it with one little tweak!
“You know about Trucks?” I finally asked.
“Oh, yes!” he replied. “My veins run with gas.
I work but one night, so with my spare time
I tinker and wrench, it sharpens the mind.
I have a collection that rivals the best
It’s my preferred hobby when I am at rest.”
I shook his hand thank you, we nodded goodbye
And with that he vanished in the blink of an eye.
As I went in to head off to bed,
I thought about everything Santa had said
Turns out he’s a Truck guy! And now that you know,
Perhaps you’ll see him – at your next Rally or show!
There sat in the corner, a classic old Dodge
My Power Wagon, near ready to go
To all of next season’s Rally's and Truck Pulls
Its perfect Green body, with Black fenders and trim
Black leather interior, the seats are just right
A Top loader shifter coming up through the floor
It sits with the hood up, not quite running yet
The problem elusive, but simple I bet
The 230 Flat Head from so long ago.
“Why won’t you run? I can’t take it no more.”
Now freshly rebuilt, To climb up those Hills.
Just thinking about it gives me a chill
All of that power, all of that torque
I can’t make it run. I feel like a dork.
I’m about to turn in, and go off to bed
Thinking a good sleep should help clear my head
When ever so slightly, I hear someone’s laughter
And jingle bells ringing, and hooves pitter-patter
“Is this for real?” I thought to myself
Could it be? The jolly old elf?
I opened the side door and had a look out
The sleigh that I saw removed any doubt
Across the street, he was making the rounds
Rooftop to rooftop, in leaps and bounds
Then he was gone, but the sleigh still remained
For what happened next, I’ll have to explain
As I turned around, what do you know
Santa Claus himself, the star of the show
Was standing there, grinning, right there by the Truck
His hands were greasy his shirt was un tucked
I stammered “S-Santa?!” And he started to snicker
I took a deep breath to calm down my ticker
He was checking it over, no angle undone
And then he said nicely, “Can I hear it run?”
I hated to say it, had no other choice
This problem I had with my Power Wagon's voice
“I wish that we could, but I’m afraid not tonight.
It’ll turn over, but it simply won’t light.I know it’s ignition, of this I am sure.
But I’m out of ideas. Do you have a cure?”
He pondered a moment, then scratched his chin.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you jump in?”
I climbed in the Truck as he fiddled around
And he said “Aha! You have a bad ground.
This wire on the coil should be attached here.”
And over he moved it, without any fear.
“Hit it!” he said, his grin growing wide
I pushed in the clutch and let out a sigh
I wiggled the shifter and hit the ol’ key…
And it fired at once. I howled with glee!
The Old Truck was running and sounded so good
Santa smiled and grinned, as he
Shut down the Butterfly Hood
I killed it and jumped out, unable to speak
Santa had fixed it with one little tweak!
“You know about Trucks?” I finally asked.
“Oh, yes!” he replied. “My veins run with gas.
I work but one night, so with my spare time
I tinker and wrench, it sharpens the mind.
I have a collection that rivals the best
It’s my preferred hobby when I am at rest.”
I shook his hand thank you, we nodded goodbye
And with that he vanished in the blink of an eye.
As I went in to head off to bed,
I thought about everything Santa had said
Turns out he’s a Truck guy! And now that you know,
Perhaps you’ll see him – at your next Rally or show!
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