Larry, Moe and Curly Joe,
Though not a Dickens tale alas,
'Tis one that you might know.
For seen we have at the malls,
On Boxing Day nevermore,
When the last spirit of Christmas calls,
And race we do from store to store.
Three Wise Men with their gifts bearing,
And it's never been the same since.
In the stable at the child staring,
Larry, Moe and Curly Joe wince.
For ghosts upon the Christ child seen,
Beneath that bright star's rays,
Where wise men could never glean
What have now become just holidays.
Until three Wise Men unwittingly
Succumbed to the season's scrooges,
And the greatest story ever told, fittingly,
Is now sold by the ghosts of the Three Stooges.
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