One-bedroom Jokes

'Twas the night before Christmas,
Yet he slept all alone.
In a one-bedroom house,
Made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney
With presents to give,
And to see just what man
In this small house did live.
I looked all about,
What a strange site to see.
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.
No stockings by the fire,
Just boots spit shined bright.
Then something else gleamed,
Reflecting the moonlight.
They were medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds.
And a sobering thought
Soon came to my mind.
For this house was different,
Unlike any I'd topped.
This was the home of an officer,
The home of a cop.
I'd heard stories about "them",
And I had to see more.
So I walked down the hall,
And pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping,
Silent and alone.
Curled up on his bed,
In this one-bedroom home.
He seemed so gentle,
His face weathered more...

Twas the night before Christmas,
Yet he slept all alone.
In a one-bedroom house,
Made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney
With presents to give,
And to see just what man
In this small house did live.
I looked all about,
What a strange site to see.
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.
No stockings by the fire,
Just boots spit shined bright.
Then something else gleamed,
Reflecting the moonlight.
They were medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds.
And a sobering thought
Soon came to my mind.
For this house was different,
Unlike any I'd topped.
This was the home of an officer,
The home of a cop.
I'd heard stories about "them",
And I had to see more.
So I walked down the hall,
And pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping,
Silent and alone.
Curled up on his bed,
In this one-bedroom home.
He seemed so more...

'Twas the night before Christmas,
Yet he slept all alone.
In a one-bedroom house,
Made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney
With presents to give,
And to see just what man
In this small house did live.
I looked all about,
What a strange site to see.
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.
No stockings by the fire,
Just boots spit shined bright.
Then something else gleamed,
Reflecting the moonlight.
They were medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds.
And a sobering thought
Soon came to my mind.
For this house was different,
Unlike any I'd topped.
This was the home of an officer,
The home of a cop.
I'd heard stories about "them",
And I had to see more.
So I walked down the hall,
And pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping,
Silent and alone.
Curled up on his bed,
In this one-bedroom home.
He seemed so more...