'Twas The Night Before Sonic 5-7-25 Written By: Vincent Deskiewicz, Jr.

'Twas the night before Sonic, when all through the camp, not a mosher was stirring, not even the tramp.

The band shirts were hung on their hangers with care, in hopes that autographs soon would be on there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of drunk mom and dad danced in their heads.

And mamma in her bandana and me I in my cap, we had just hit the bong and settled in for the nap.

When out in parking lot there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my cot to see WTF was the matter.

Away to the zip door I flew like a flash, tore open the tent awning tripped over my stash!

The moon on the breast of the fresh line of cars, gave some distorted vision to the ruckus out far.

When what to my wondering eyes did appear, but a massive homemade camper and guys drinking beer!

With a long bearded scruffy looking captain tattooed and full of cheer, I knew at this moment more fans were here!

More rapid than eagles they setup a spot, he directed them like workers he hired in the Home Depot parking lot.

“Now Billy! Now Fred! Now Tina and Dixon! Set it up Brenda! In a couple of hours it's breakfast we will be fixin'!”

Set up the porch! Set up the flag wall! Now get to bed now! Get to bed all!

As the field before the first tent setup, when the chalk lines were freshly laid, the noise of the campers finally shut up.

Now in their tents the metal heads all settled in, Billy, Fred, Tina, Brenda and that fat loud guy named Ben.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the tents, the moaning and groaning of what sounded like sex.

As I was headed back in my tent, and was turning around, the bearded scruffy looking captain appeared with a bound.

He was dressed all in band merch, from head to his foot, and his clothes were all aged from pits he was put.

A bundle of fine nug he had in his hip pack, and he looked like ready to party with that big ass sack!

His eyes – glazed and twinkled! His slurry speech, how merry! His cheeks were covered with beard, the end of his blunt was cherry!

He had a hat and it was turned to the back, and the beard on his chin was pitch black.

That finger of a blunt he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly, that shook when he laughed, like cooler full of shooters made of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, I was pretty high myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon gave me to know this party was going to be far from dead!

He spoke not a word, but went straight to the porta john, and he was in there for a minute so thank god he didn't do that on the lawn!

He walked by me swiftly face red as rose, he dusted some white powder off the side of his nose.

He took a few steps down the path and stopped and did a loud whistle, this dude was tweakin' that was for shizzle!

I heard him yell out as he stumbled into some guys wearing truckers, “IT'S SONIC TEMPLE TIME MOTHER FUCKERS!”