‘Twas the night before New Year’s, when all through the bar

Not a lady was single, so I smoked a cigar.

The stockings were fishnet, held up with black strings,

These are a few of my favorite things...
 

The men were nestled all snug in the breasts,

While memories of Jagerbombs gave me unrest.

I misplaced my Fedora, and took off my tie,

I was missing my shirt but not exactly sure why.
 

When out on the dance floor there arose such a chatter,

The patrons were eager and started to scatter.

Away to the bar tops they flew and they ran

Then ordered up drinks, one for each hand.