Twas the night before Bonneville
At Wendover-in bed,
Visions of land speed records danced in my head.
Then came a loud noise and I thought 'what the hell?'
I entered the hallway and followed the salt trail.
It took me a few floors up
To the 'presidential suite'
I knocked on the door while brushing salt from my feet.
A party was roaring, there was Jimmy and Ack
Sam Wheeler, Denis Manning, Dave Campos in the back.
There were car drivers too, even the guy with the turbo diesel truck
Micky Thompson and Don Vesco even somehow showed up.
The stories and bench racing made such a clatter,
That security showed up, just to see what was the matter.
We invited him in, put a beer in his hand
Then told him the story of the white promised land.
Where speed is the game and no thrill can compare
He listened intently, he'd wished he'd been there.
At 2 in the morning the party dispersed
We returned to our rooms, having satisfied our thirsts.
The following day I awoke all alone
Grabbed the morning paper as I entered the thrown,
There in the headlines in bold black and white
Was the following message that was just out of sight.
'Merry Christmas to all-especially those with the passion
For pushing the envelope in such a grand fassion
May the holidays be merry, and kept within reason
So we can return to the salt and continue next season'
