’Twas a few days before Christmas
and all through the state
Alabamians were wishing
to hear of a good fate.
No coach in Tuscaloosa
Mike Shula was away.
And fans begged for a leader
who could win and would stay.
In Auburn, the War Eagles
cheered a team not forgotten
and wished for success
in a bowl full of Cotton.
Bob Riley, the guvnah,
soon to start a new term,
contended with Democrats,
who made the man squirm.
His inaugural fun,
though moved to B-ham,
was sure to be a hoot,
not a political sham.
The state’s tax code
better, if only so slightly.
Big Mules craved power,
and held to it tightly.
For the jolly old elf,
some called St. Nick,
Alabama was a puzzle,
a spot that could trick.
Its people, so fine,
deserve something better
than a bad Constitution
that’s made many a debtor.
There’s something disconnected,
old Santa did declare,
the thing harms the folks,
makes them all to despair.
I’d like to surprise ’em,
remarked the man wearing red,
with a new state Constitution
that the Big Mules would dread.
Making life much more fair
and letting democracy breathe
would satisfy a deep craving
and give reason to believe.
But clean the soiled text
and banish its flaws?
I alone cannot do it,
said the dude, Santa Clause.
Though it would be so loved
and have Alabamians flocking,
a new state Constitution
does not fit in a stocking.
So it’s something they must do
in Anniston, Oxford and Mobile.
In Opp, Andalusia, Selma,
Sulligent and Huntsville.
They must get started,
old Santa heavily sighed,
and not dilly-dally
or cling to foolish pride.
Let the call ring out now
for reform to commence
and to Bama’s government
bring some common sense.
— B.D.
