‘Twas the night before Christmas, when in the state house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The SBT voted out much earlier with great care,
In hopes that tax relief soon would be there;
Owners of Business all snug in their beds,
While visions of profits danced in their heads;
The ol lady in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out in Lansing there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my coma to see what was the matter.
Away to My Blog I flew like a flash,
Tore apart the keyboard with nary a crash.
Opinions as different as new flakes of snow
Gave way to the evidence that was going to show,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a service fee, MBT, and more taxes on deer,
With a little pompous ass, so lively and quick,
They added taxes so fast, that it made me feel sick.
More rapid than eagles, Granholm and her crew,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them anew;
“Now, Donigan! McDowell! now, Sheltrown and Miller!
On, Lahti! Mike Sak! on, K Law and Dillon!
To the top of the taxes! to the top of them all!
Now Steal away! Confiscate! take away all!”
Before they were done, and we couldn’t know why,
They met in secret, they met on the sly,
So up in the house and the Senate would tell
Then Michigan Ganders found a new burden as well
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Granholm came with a bound.
She was dressed all in fur, from her head to her toes,
And her demeanor was haughty, as if only she knows;
A great number of favors she had to return,
And she looked like a teacher with nothing to learn.
Her eyes — how they twinkled! her dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like John Cherry’s!
Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the sparkle of her drool was as white as the snow;
The stump of our constitution she held in her hand,
And the crumpling sound, she thought was so grand;
She had a broad face and a little pot belly,
Her plan it would seem became a bit smelly;
She was Righteous and trite, a right jolly old nag,
And I laughed when I saw her, then filled an air-sickness bag;
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know we had all better dread;
She spoke few words, and went straight to her work,
And filled all the state coffers; then turned with a jerk,
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
And giving a nod, to her mansion she rose;
She sprang to her home, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, as she drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas you suckers, and to unions a good-night.”