Twas the night before Christmas and all over the town
The citizens were wondering why their mayor wears a crown
The township building was decked out in holiday splash
No doubt that the display cost a little bit of cash
One stocking above the fireplace was empty- that’s strange.
It was red, limp and labeled “La Grange.”
A note was attached, it said “I.O.U.”
It was obviously written by you-know-who
Hozza-Claus had come, full of Christmas cheer
Spending money that doesn’t belong to him, far and near
Then out on the lawn I heard a clatter
It was Hozza-Claus relieving his bladder
He urinated all over the lawn
Just like he does to his commissioner pawn
When he was finished, he looked at me and said
“I’m gonna spend money until Whitehall is dead.
The LaGrange Fund is my own personal loot.
Try to stop me and you’ll get the boot.”
Just then I saw a sight growing wider
The commissioners, led by Linda Snyder
They came up to Hozza-Claus and said “We want our cut.”
Like hungry squirrels they just wanted to cover their nut
Forget about serving the citizens in this town
All they’re concerned about is sharing Hozza’s crown.
Whitehall is broken this dark Christmas Eve.
We all wish these corrupt heathens would leave
But that will not happen, the politicians know with a grin
They’re free to pillage Whitehall because the idiot citizens voted them in.