'Twas the night before Christmas
And out on the street
Sad souls searched for crack
Or else something to eat
Except Bobby Goren
Who was there on a quest
To discover his nephew
He's a man quite obsessed
Since being suspended
He's been drinking alone
Not eating or sleeping
Not answering his phone
He fears Donny may be
His very last hope
To find something to live for
He's at the end of his rope
But clever or lucky
Donny's left not a clue
Leaving Bobby discouraged
Just one thing left to do
He once swore that he'd never
Eat his own gun
But he's run out of options
His demons have won
And really it's probably
A fitting finale
Mark Brady's bastard
Found dead in an alley
But reaching into his pocket
He hears a soft voice
"Son, please don't do this
Find some other choice"
What the hell? It's a priest
In formal priestly attire
And glancing upwards he sees
St. Patrick's tall spire
"I'll spare you the sermon
On damnation and sin
But since you've come here tonight
Won't you please enter in?"
And in his heart Bobby knows
It's not the priest who now speaks
But One who'll give him the answers
And the comfort he seeks.