'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The SMiLE bootlegs were stacked by the CD player with care,
In hopes that Little Saint Nick would be there;

The SMiLE-phile was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of an official release danced in his head;
Donned in Smile pajamas and under Smile sheets,
He had SOT playing on CD repeat,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should arouse,
But a miniature woody, and eight of Brian's pals,

At the front was a surfboard, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Little St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, VAN DYKE (Parks)! now, MARK (Volman)! now, DEAN(Torrance) and ANNIE (Hinsche)!
On, MICHAEL (Vosse)! on DAVID (Anderle)! on, DIANE (Rovell)! and DANNY (Hutton)!
In case of policemen run behind the wall!
And stash away! stash away! stash away all!"

And I heard them all laugh with an wholehearted sound,
Caused by the reddi-whip they all passed around.
A drink to steady my nerves I started to pour,
When down the chimney came Brian on his surf board.

He was dressed all in paisley, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of CD's he had flung on his back,
And he looked like an A&R man just opening his pack.

His eyes -- behind sunglasses! his smile oh how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
Out of the side of his mouth a tune he did sing,
A verse of 'I'm In Great Shape' which had been missing.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Replacing all the CD's; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his surfboard, and then gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, and he said it with cheer
"NO OFFICIAL RELEASE...AT LEAST NOT THIS YEAR!"