Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a Corvette was stirring, not even a Furd louse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Corvette goodies would be there.
The NCRS guys were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of 1st flight trophies danced in their heads.
And Roy in his 55 cap, and I in my 57 cap,
Had just garaged our vettes for a long winter's nap.
When out in the garage there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the garage door I flew like a flash,
Swung the door open and saw a man with a Corvette stash.
The lights in the garage yielded a sight to behold,
It was the image of something to be told.
When, what to my excited eyes should appear,
But a 427 Corvette being towed by 8 tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and fast,
I knew in a moment it must be Noland Adams at last.
More rapid than Furds, his vettes they came,
And he whistled, and shouted and called them by name.
"Now C1, Now C2, Now C3 and C4,
On C5, On C6, On C7 and more!
To the Christmas tree and to the end of the drag strip,
Now speed away, go as fast as you can & don't trip."
And then, in a twinkling of the Christmas tree,
I heard sounds of horsepower and something sweet.
As I looked up to see the race,
There sat a Furd in disgrace!
So Noland sprang to his vette, to give his Corvette team a show,
And away he flew down the strip on the go.
All were heard to exclaim as he drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
Not a Corvette was stirring, not even a Furd louse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Corvette goodies would be there.
The NCRS guys were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of 1st flight trophies danced in their heads.
And Roy in his 55 cap, and I in my 57 cap,
Had just garaged our vettes for a long winter's nap.
When out in the garage there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the garage door I flew like a flash,
Swung the door open and saw a man with a Corvette stash.
The lights in the garage yielded a sight to behold,
It was the image of something to be told.
When, what to my excited eyes should appear,
But a 427 Corvette being towed by 8 tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and fast,
I knew in a moment it must be Noland Adams at last.
More rapid than Furds, his vettes they came,
And he whistled, and shouted and called them by name.
"Now C1, Now C2, Now C3 and C4,
On C5, On C6, On C7 and more!
To the Christmas tree and to the end of the drag strip,
Now speed away, go as fast as you can & don't trip."
And then, in a twinkling of the Christmas tree,
I heard sounds of horsepower and something sweet.
As I looked up to see the race,
There sat a Furd in disgrace!
So Noland sprang to his vette, to give his Corvette team a show,
And away he flew down the strip on the go.
All were heard to exclaim as he drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
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