'TIS THE WEEK before Christmas, and all through the town
Philadelphians are gleeful, our frowns upside-down!
Cliff Lee's now a Phil, thanks to Ruben Amaro
(So take that, damn Yankees - our joy is your sorrow!).
Mike Vick's a proud symbol of ex-con redemption,
And delightful DeSean? What an end-zone invention!
We've needed this sweetness to help us forget
The nonsense that 2010 did beget.
Like the new Family Courthouse that didn't get built,
Though lawyers got paid without one brick of guilt.
And oh, how we groaned when that angry wreck-chaser
Shot his loathed rival (next time, just use Mace, sir).
We learned that "disgraceful" is spelled "B-R-T,"
And that DRPA employees cross bridges for free.
Tartaglione women proved they stick together,
But Ackerman's contracts are fair and foul weather.
(Speaking of foul, where is Carl Greene?
Our PHA maverick and - alleged - sex machine?
Since his scandals went public, the guy's come unmoored,
Though that hasn't stopped him from suing his board.)
Our hearts broke in half when that duck boat capsized;
We watched it unfold through horrified eyes.
Passers-by helped, with rescues courageous,
But two teens still perished, their loss is outrageous.
In Kensington's darkness, a strangler did prey.
His targets? Lost women, the sad and the stray.
What kind of monster would savage the weak,
Ending so cruelly their long losing streak?
The year, true, was not
all disaster and woe:
The Orchestra hired a master maestro!
His first name is Yannick, his last name is crazy
(a tongue-twister for the linguistically lazy).
Daily News won a big Pulitzer Prize,
For work that exposed cops' corruption and lies.
Good cops toiled on, despite the harsh press,
And functioned with grace despite the duress.
City Council, thank heavens, was good for a laugh
As they discussed DROP, their grand golden calf.
Their flimsy canards were meant to confuse,
For they'll never drop DROP - they've got too much to lose!
The name "Christmas Village" got reinstated,
Once "Holiday Village" was deemed overrated.
As for those soft-drink and garbage-bag taxes,
They came and they went, nothing more than failed praxis.
Our mayor, Mike Nutter, embraced all things "green,"
From bike lanes to trash cans but, alas, not latrines.
And speaking of Green, John-the-Sheriff won't quit,
Until he completes the controller's audit.
Not so some others, who lost last month's election,
And still look quite shell-shocked by voters' rejection.
On Specter! On Murphy! On Dan Onorato!
On Perzel! On Sestak! Is "Next time!" your motto?
Which brings us back to our Cliff Lee-led corps:
With Cole and the Roys, we've now got our Phab Phour!
Next season, just maybe, we'll win the whole thing,
And our Phillies will sport World Series ring-bling!
Until then we love Michael Vick and DeSean,
And LeSean and Akers - the whole Eagles jawn!
They give us relief from the year's sad and silly,
We'll always have both, 'cause, c'mon, this is Philly.
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