It was the
  night before Halloween
all through the crib
   all were stirring putting on costumes,
all were dressing as ghosts or goblins,
in the hope treats were near.

No one was in their beds
   while visions of chocolate
danced in their heads,
   mamma, in her costume (****)
I in the living room playing
   Walking Dead replays.

When, out on the lawn, there arose
   such a clatter, I sprang from my DVR
to see what was the matter.
   In a flash I realized,
Santa was drunk and
   arrived two months early.