’Twas the night before touring

’Twas the night before touring, and all through the bus,

Not a singer or bandmate was making a fuss.

They all were exhausted from weeks of rehearsing,

While the crew muttered softly, occasionally cursing.

Even Colin was snoozing, his plans all rehashed,

Knowing when he woke up they would probably be trashed.

And V in her softpants, and me in Batman PJs,

Had just figured out our small bunk hideaway.

When out on the A4 there rose such a clatter,

I sprang from our bunk to see what was the matter.

Okay, I didn’t quite “spring.” Really, I fell on my ass,

But eventually got up and looked out through the glass.

The glare of the streetlights was a sight to behold,

And I thought to myself, Why’d we tour when it’s cold?

The lustre of midday it really was not,

More like a truck stop...

Sorry. I’m losing the plot.

I squinted outside, having misplaced my glasses,

And finally saw something remarkably badass:

A miniature bus pulled by twenty reindeer!

I couldn’t see the driver, but his window was open,

And he shouted and cursed as he called them by name:

“NOW BIRMINGHAM! HARLOW! NOW EPSOM AND HOVE!

ON COLCHESTER! HARPENDEN! LET’S BLOODY MOVE!

LYTHAM ST ANNES! CARMARTHEN! WINCHESTER, GO!

LIVERPOOL! GRAVESEND! SUNDERLAND! HO!

ON HERTFORD! ON WORCESTER! ON ILKLEY! ON LONDON!

ON BATH! WHITLEY BAY!”

Then apparently he'd forgotten some.

He paused for a moment and took a swig of his beer.

“HEVER!”

“HEEVER,” I yelled.

“WHATEVER!

AND STOCKPORT!”

Twenty reindeer.

That seemed like an awful lot of reindeer for one bus.

But then I blinked...

And there was nothing there.

First-night jitters?

Pre-show nerves?

Complete psychological collapse?

Hard to say.

So I crawled back into my bunk thinking surely it had all been a dream.

But just as I closed my eyes, somewhere in the distance, I swear I heard him yell:

“NOW GO KICK SOME ASS!

AND BE SURE TO TAKE NAMES!

THE PEOPLE WILL LOVE IT!

NOW GO PLAY YOUR DAMN...”

Something.

The rest I probably shouldn’t repeat.

And then, as the bus disappeared into the night, one final cry echoed across the English countryside:

“SHOW STARTS AT 7:30!”

’Twas the night before touring.

Tomorrow...

We begin.

Okay, that’s it. I’m not gonna get all mushy.

See ya,

Kevin