On the twelfth day of Christmas
There were twelve drummers drumming
In a marathon loft apartment session
Leaving the neighbors seriously bumming
In a large circle upon the second floor
Of the large old mansion that was now student housing
Twelve drum kits faced one another
Each with it's own concentrating, slack jawed drummer
Sometimes the beats were in unison
Other times they were counter to one another
At the worst times it seemed that there was no rhythm
Just an acid fueled drumstick salute to the great Earth Mother
The neighbors called the cops
Who came armed and dangerous
But the drummers beat them back
With beat attack most thunderous
Ear drums bleeding
The cops called the National Guard
Who came in their tanks
And parked right in the yard
Bringing the main guns to bear on the house
The drummers responded with drumming war beats
Calling down lightning from high up above
With cymbal crashes and repeats
The tank hulls shattered
The cops ears bleeding
An air strike was called in
Sending the neighbors stampeding
Hearing the jets coming from far far away
The twelve drummers drumming performed a miracle that day
They drummed and worked magic
Both sensible and darkly tragic
Until that old creaking house
Just disappeared from sight
With a sound like the pop of a soap bubble
And all was immediately quiet in the darkening night
Leaving confusion and chaos
As always happens when something is unexplained
With numerous experts on Fox News making up things to say
All to try to describe this apparent miracle
On this Twelfth Christmas Day.
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