'Twas the Night Before the Budweiser Shootout

"Twas the night before the Shootout when all through the house,

Not even Ryan Newman was stirring,

Left out from the Shootout, feeling like a louse.

The cars were strung out on the track with care,

In hopes that the checkered flag would soon be there.

The fans were all nestled all snug in their seats,

With visions of great racing and basking in the heat.

And Mama in her Junior jacket and I in my Jeff Gordon cap,

Had just settled in for a very exciting hot lap.

When out on the track there arose such a clatter,

I jumped from my seat to see what was the matter.

Away to the rail I flew like a flash,

Tore off my headsets and watched the big crash.

The moon on the breast of the virgin race track,

Gave luster to the cars, even those running in the back.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But Dale Earnhardt, Junior approaching fast in the mirror.

With this cute little driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment that he was my pick.

More rapid than eagles this driver drove by,

As he called to his teammates under the Florida sky.

"On Jeff, on Jimmie, on Tony, on Paul",

"Now draft away, draft away, draft away all!"

With a wink of his eye and a nod of his head,

I knew that the other drivers would have plenty to dread.

And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,

"Happy Budweiser Shootout to all...and to all a good night!"