T'was the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a mouse.
There was a zombie, though.
His name was Augustus,
A cute little tyke.
He was courteous, polite
Really, what's not to like?
He did on occasion
have a craving for brain,
But being so friendly,
he tried to abstain.
And now he was crouching
In some other man's home,
He'd hid in the living room,
All cold and alone.
His family, you see,
Such a colourful bunch,
Had left him behind
When they went out to lunch.
They all found his conscience
Annoying and trite
When they were indulging
Their own appetite.
So on this Christmas day
(The clock had just struck twelve)
The young boy Augustus
Was all by himself.
He looked at the Christmas tree,
green as his skin,
and wondered when the
happy cheer would begin.
Then a voice came behind him,
Quite gave him a fright:
"I hope then, you're happy
On this blessed night!"
Augustus turned
And saw what couldn't be:
A fat man wearing red,
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