‘Twas the night before Edinburgh and all through the house,
A creature was bouncing; as small as a mouse.
The stockings were hung from her ears like a loon,
In prep for a month in the old Scottish toon.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
Not sure whose they are but please don't tell the feds...
I've had lots of coffee, a snack and a shower,
Ready to sleep for a whole entire hour!
When at 4am the alarm goes with a clatter,
And I smash up the fucker for being such a twat-ter.
Away to the train I fly in a chase,
Then troop back to the house having forgotten my case...
The dew on the tracks and a bright summer flower,
Still frankly look shit at this ungodly hour.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a trolley of sandwiches, red wine and beer.
Swaying on the rails, bringing up the sick,
A smell from the toilet and a "silent coach" prick.
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
A mentalist yelling stuff. Brilliant, what fun.
We're exiting sobriety til the end of the run.
And up to the border of Scotland we flew
With a train full of jokes and a crazy man too.
Away in the distance I saw in the sky,
A smile in the clouds and a face saying hi
Could this be Bennett, with an omen of delight?
Or Copstick just waiting to label us old steaming shite?
It's a city of dreams from the new town to old,
We don't even mind that it rains and is cold.
A bundle of shows it has packed in its bars,
And the best of comedians from crap ones to stars.
The lights how they twinkle - the people so merry!
The memories of past years, like when I popped my...balloon.
The castle up high, standing out proud.
And the Mile, best avoided, if you don't like a crowd.
The mess from the tramworks, so far from complete,
Unless they just wanted to fuck up Prince's Street?
But the journey goes on, in despite of my whinge,
For I'm off to star in the Edinburgh Fringe!
A chance for fame, and reviews full of stars,
A chance to watch grown men weeping in bars.
With improv and stand up and theatre, to boot,
Whilst down south the athletes are collecting their loot...
We've punch lines and pints, all made to order
The tension is mounting as we head for the border.
Jiggling my fingers and wingling my toes,
Up through the clouds my heart and dreams rose,
It's time for the Gilded, for shows and more laughter,
We'll deal with the hangovers and poverty after,
But I just must say, as I smile with delight,
Happy Edinburgh to all, and to all a good night!