BY MIKEY MIGO
'Twas The Night Before Rockmas
"Bare with me, it's X-Mas Eve"
'Twas the night before Rockmas, when music played through out the house
Not a indie band was exciting, not even Modest Mouse;
The hands were hung in the air like they just don't care,
In hopes that the bands soon would be there;
The rockstars were nestled with groupies snug in their beds,
While visions of sex, drugs, and rock and roll danced in their heads;
And Lil Mamma in her lip gloss, and Diddy's security busting a cap,
Had just convinced the world that Lil Wayne could rap,
When out on the stage there arose such a clatter,
Opps! It's just Fergie emptying her bladder.
Away to my CD collection I play some Grand Master Flash,
Tore open the shutters to see Snoop was in my stash.
The crowds weren't the best and sales were low
Gave Amy Winehouse a reason to do some blow,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an over priced T-Shirt and eight dollar beer,
With a little girl sounding emo band, so lethargic and sick,
I knew in a moment whose ass to kick.
More rabid than Eagles of Death Metal, Axel's fans never came,
And they hissed and shouted at movies featuring The Game ;
"Now, Bono! now, Prince! now, Cher and Sting!
On, Madonna! on Pink! on, Usher and rappers with Bling!
From the windoooooow to the waaaaall!
Now dance away! dance away! dance away all!"
At benefit concerts before the wild hurricanes fly,
When they meet for the cause, as the governments lie,
So off the shelves bad albums flew,
As expected as always the new Nickelback blew.
And then, in a twinkling, I needed no proof
That Soulja Boy's rapping was just a spoof.
As the labels drew in the dollars or in the UK it's pounds,
Downloading free albums was as good as it sounds.
He was dressed all in designer brands, from his head to his foot,
And just like that 50 Cent's street cred was caput;
A bunch of rumors about the great Zeppelin coming back,
What the hell happened to Christina's rack?
Many girls kissed girls and liked it like Katy Perry!
I tasted her chap stick and it was cherry!
The lights were a bright, drawn up with a glow,
And the lady on his arm was just for show;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his gold teeth,
And the smoke it encircled the crowd like a wreath;
The journalist had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed at the abrupt fall of Nelly.
Pete Wentz is kinda of gay and his wife looks sorta like an elf,
And I threw rocks when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of her eye and a bad haircut on her head,
Makes me wish that rock and roll wasn't dead;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his solo work,
And he made great music only to become a jerk,
Singing an encore, the only song the crowd knows,
The show is over, the crowd empties from their rows;
He sprang to back stage, to his road crew gave a whistle,
And away they all took down the lights as they sizzle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he ran off stage and out of sight,
"Merry Rockmas to all, and to all a ˜THANK YOU! GOOD-NIGHT!'"
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