Twas the Night before Year-End
Twas the night before Year-End, when all through SteelMaster
Not a building specialists was relaxing, not even the Dag-ster.
The closeout building lists were hung on the website with care,
In hopes that steel building sales soon would be there.
The reps were nestled all snug in their cubes,
While visions of their sales spiffs brighten their moods.
And Bueno in his sweater vest, and Lord Boulby on this throne,
Greg had just viewed the call counts and let out a moan.
When up on the con there arose such a clatter,
Rob sprang through the door to see what was the matter.
Away to the printer Robin flew like a flash,
Tore open the fax that made us beau-coups cash.
The moon on the breast of the oceanfront sand
Gave the luster of steel buildings to all of the land.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But the vision of deals that are suddenly near.
With a little ole surfer, so lively and gay,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Rhae.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Marlon! now, Ryan! now, William and Noah!
On, Jerry! On, Eric! on Nicole and Emma!
To the top of the 4:12 pitch! to the top of the end wall!
Now sell away! Sell away! Sell away all!”
He was dressed all in camo, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with duck blood and soot.
A bundle of steel he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
He spoke not a word, though he loves to work the crowd,
And filled all the pallets, really, really proud.
He sprang to his surfboard, to his team gave a whistle,
And caught a tube with his board like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he rode out of sight,
“Steel buildings from SteelMaster make everything right!”
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