A White House Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the White House 
Al Gore was eyeing Hillary, peering into her blouse.
The Secret Servicemen were guarding the premises with care, 
for a whole host of Democrats were vacationing there. 

Chelsea was nestled all snug in her bed
after locking out Mr. Kennedy and the dirty thoughts in his head. 
And Bill in his sportcoat; a heavy grey tweed,
had just fried his brain with some primo Mexican weed. 

When out from the garden came a plethora of noise, 
all drunken and rowdy: 'twas Gingrich and the boys!' 
Bill jumped to the window and tore open the sash, 
"It's a raid boys!" he cried, "Quick, go hide my stash!" 

The pot in his blood and the moon on the snow
gave a psychedelic haze to the objects below. 
When what to Bill's frantic eyes should appear, 
but a slew of Republicans and a keg of Ice Beer, 

with a big old leader, all lively and fat;
He new it was Newt, "Proponent of GATT!" 
As viscious as vipers, the Republicans came,
and Bill recognized them and called them by name. 

"Hey Helms! Hey Thurmond! Hey Packwood and Hatch! 
Hey Dole and Pataki, it's time for a bash!"
A collective cheer rose out from the crowd, 
"Let's listen to Nugent, and turn it up loud!"

Together Dems and Republicans danced and sang out in cheer, 
"Screw Health Care and Bosnia, it's time to drink beer!" 
When from the chimney, came a blinding black cloud of soot, 
and Limbaugh danced from the fireplace in a red Santa suit. 

He moved through the crowd, then raised up his hand
and when all was silent, he did a keg stand.
And the crowd raised their cups, as Newt bowed down in prayer, 
champagne flowed freely, just like welfare.

As Kennedy and Reno romped in the Green Room,
the rest of the crooks outlined their Hidden Agenda of Doom: 
"We'll pray in schools, we'll shove it down their throats!" 
"More welfare, more taxes, we'll still get the votes!"

And they drank, hugged, and danced, they crossed party lines, 
and they cheered, "It doesn't matter, we're all bastard swines!" 
So they threw out allegiance and partisan crap
and took turns sitting on the presidents lap. 

And Gephardt and Dole passed out on the lawn, 
awoke in the morning without their pants on. 
And Packwood gave Tipper a pat on the rear,
while judge Thomas and Miss Hill went out for more beer. 

Then the party-goers discovered a site so touching and cute, 
President Clinton fast asleep, snuggled up next to Newt. 
Santa Limbaugh smiled and threw up in his boots,
"A Merry Christmas to all and to all a good Newt!