Spark 'em up at eight!

There might be snow where you are
There may even be ice
So let us travel, sans car,
To someplace warm and nice
They eat non-kosher meats there
And smoke fair bit of weed
Tonight, I'm playing reggae
Joyous Christmas indeed!

Bring your candles at eight

Agriculture, sun-god born
why now, in the dead of night?
Some chilly, darkest, winter morn
We celebrate that little light
And those eight days, coming so soon
Again, a festival of flames
That lowest sky of winter noon,
Many cultures give many names...

I can't believe I miss summer

It snowed here, where it ought not snow
The week was filled with wind and cold
And other worries, don't ya know?
Like who would be the next to fold
Of course, I'll talk about it more
This topic, sadly, bears much weight.
But who knows what the night has in store?
And as always, starts at eight

Happy fun time starting in eighth hour!

I'm feeling depressed
Drown your sorrows in saké
We'll see if it helps