T’was The Night Before Christmas, When All Through Pit Lane
There Were No Milk And Cookies, Just Bottles Of Champagne
The Stockings Were Hung, By The Podium With Care
Hoping Newey’s Designs Soon Would Be There
Bernie Was Sleeping, Safe And Sound In His Bed
As Recent Courtroom Proceedings, Bounced Around In His Head
Jean Todt In His Onesie, Was Checking His List
As He Made Plans To Rule With A Soft Iron Fist?
When From The Paddock, Arose Something Quite Smelly
Sebastian Vettel Did Donuts, With Tyres From Pirelli
Away To The Pits, We Flew Like A Flash
We Heard Something Resembling, A Very Loud Crash
With The Light Of The Moon, It All Became Clear
Kimi Found Ice Cream, Then Dropped All His Beer
Charlie Whiting Appeared, At Race Control
He Had Just Arrived, From The Frosty North Pole
All Dressed In Red, White Hair And No Beard
With Shiny Black Boots Which Ron Dennis Revered
His Eyes Were A Twinkle, With A Smile On His Face
He Began Yelling And Screaming, For All To Come Race
All Drivers And Teams, Rushed Quickly And Came
As The Stern Race Director, Called Them By Name…
Now Vettel Now Lewis, Now Button And Nico
On Kimi On Webber, On Massa And Nando
To The Front Of The Grid, And Standing By
Chained Up Like Reindeer, And Prepared To Fly
They Took Over For Santa, Who Had Become Ill
He’d Been Forced On Stress Leave, After That Race In Brazil
Bernd Maylander Modified His Silver Pace Car
With A Red Light In Front, Which Seemed Quite Bizarre
Alan And Doc, Followed All From Behind.
In The Medical Car, With Heated Seats Reclined
Charlie Was Strapped, To The Top Of Their Merc
With A Bag Full Of Goodies, And A Huge Silly Smirk
In The Blink Of An Eye, With Tyres Still Smoking
They Dashed Off The Line, And Left Charlie Choking
DRS Was Enabled, And KERS Was Engaged
But No Contracts Were Signed, Which Left Bernie Enraged
They Landed On Rooftops, In Perfect Formation
Like A Storybook Tale, With Murray Walker Narration
The Chimney Was Tight, Charlie Just Didn’t Fit
So He Delegated Duties, To Our Friend Aussie Grit
From City To City, And Home To Home
From Melbourne To London And Shanghai To Rome
The Fuel Cells Were Freezing, As They Sputtered And Shivered
But They Were Jolly And Quick, As All Gifts Were Delivered
Back To Pit Lane, For Festive Celebrations
As The F1 Crew, Beat St. Nick’s Expectations
Not A Word Was Spoken, As They Got The Job Done
Christmas Was Saved, Thanks To Formula One
From The F1 Times, We Say With Delight
Happy Christmas To All, And To All A Good Night
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