A Christmas poem-BlackIce style

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BlackIceLSC

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T'was the night before Christ-Mark, and all through land, not a Mark VIII was cruising across this still land.

The Nor-Cal gang resting from shopping all week, pulled up to their keyboards to see what Craig speak.

He goes by the name, BlackIce dont you know, his Black colored mark VIII with mods, wont go slow.

He waxes and shines it all day and at night,
he runs down the highway, looking for a fair V8 fight.

But what is this here in the other lane he does see,
but a fat man in a sleigh is what it appears to be

Craig roars up beside him and taunts him a bit,
Rolls down his left window and screams "wanna race that Piece of Sh*t?"

So the fatman does downshift, and nods with delight
Craig clicks off the O/D and readies for fight.

Black Ice nails the throttle and spins just a tad
while the fat man is starting to really get mad

They both pull up even, and find their top gear
Black Ice is smiling senses victory is near.

The next thing you know the sleigh catches air
Black Ice knows that "lift-off" isnt at all that fair

So he stays in the throttle knowing that's his only chance
to pass this old fat guy, and do the victory dance

At 120 miles per hour the speed limiter kicks in
that chip he just purchased, he forgot to put in

The fat man yelled down to the black Mark VIII so slow
Merry Christmas to you Black Ice, thanks for the good race, and
HO HO HO!
-Me!
Merry Christmas gang!!!
BlackIceLSC-VP LODNCA
http://mark8.org/lodnca
94 Black/Black M8
95 Champagne/Saddle M8
 
RE: A Christmas poem-BlackIce style

Found this on another site:

Twas the night before Christmas and caught at the light,
Was a torch red Lincoln and no cops in sight.
I will try, I will try, I will try with this small motor,
To beat this Lincoln, it ain't got no blower.
As the light goes green and I pull like no joke,
The Lincoln erupts in clouds of tire smoke.
Now Smasher, now Rev-ver, now Stroker, now Blitzin,
These are the names of my four VTEC pistons.

Racing ahead I'm the star of the action,
But I know I'm in trouble when Lincoln gets traction.
Grabbing second, I hear the RPM's sing,
My mirror is blocked by my shopping kart wing.

I now hear the roar of the big monster gaining,
All I can do is keeping the four-banger straining.
In a second, the shock wave hits with a blast,
And my stickers go flying, now a thing of the past.

Don't bother with third, cause now it's too late,
Just try to act cool, like you can relate.
Looking up at the 2 tail lights as they get smaller,
The driver backs off just to give me a holler,

"You can't win them all," he says in fling,
"You may not win any, in that silly thing,"
I smiled and revved as he pulled out of sight,
With more stickers tomorrow, i'll give him a fight!
 
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