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'Twas the week before Christmas. Santa put on his vest, His thoughts on a cowgirl way out in the West.
She had written a letter--the longest he'd got--And St. Nick didn't know if he could help her or not.
"Dear Santa, " it started, "I'm down in the dumps, And my rear end is covered in bruises and bumps,
"I was ridin' the herd, putting' cowboys to shame, When my pony's hoof slipped and the colt came up lame.