“Holey Moley Goodbye”

I was standin' on top of a rock,
peerin' out over a canyon they called, “The Grand.”
It was a wide open space, graced by a mile clock,
and wider then my two spreadin' hands.
The journey to arrive, with no map, snacks or fraps,
was one I'll never live down again.
Next time I'm loadin' up my pack, I'm RVin' the track,
with a cooler filled with beer and friends.

And I'd Say Holey Moley That's Right,
Again I Say Holey Moley What a Sight,
to be Standin' There Above the Open Floor,
of a Purple Majesty's, Beautifully Grandeur-ed.
Holey, and I Really Mean Holey,
Yea Moley, I'm Retainin' It All Slowly.
I Know I Really Wanna Try to Capitalize,
On the Beauty Before My Eyes,
But Then My Wife, Peaks Over the Edge and Says,
“We're Standing Way Too High,”
Holey Moley Goodbye.

We floated to a land that began,
many lives of family's across the USA.
It's a small little island in the eye of the apple,
where the weak and poor get all the breaks.
For some to be able to call a house a home,
I'm sure's a relief to their veritable mind.
And yet she's known to the citizen, as the model.
This is where they found, what they came here to find.

And I'd Say Holey Moley That's Right,
Again I Say Holey Moley What a Sight,
I Was Standin' at Freedoms Shore,
a Lifted Lamp Beside the Golden Door.
Holey, and I Really Mean Holey,
Yea Moley, I'm Retainin' It All Slowly.
Her Arm Lifted High the Torch to the Sky,
the Wondrous Beauty Twinkled In My Eyes,
Then My Wife Abruptly Cries,
“It's Already Way Too Late at Night,”
Holey Moley Goodbye.

We went to the house, owned politically joust,
that rules over the life of our lives.
It's painted white, and has security guys crouched,
surrounded is the perimeter, on each and all sides.
There's a person inside, who models inspiration to be,
representing the people, of this greater land.
Whether you voted yes, or checked the little box no,
you'll have to obey, their varied laws by command.

And I'd Say Holey Moley That's Right,
Again I Say Holey Moley What a Sight,
I Was Standin' at the Presidential Grail,
a Beacon of Light for the Hungry and Frail.
Holey, and I Really Mean Holey,
Yea Moly, I'm Retainin' It All Slowly.
'Cuz the Home of the Brave, Where Leaders Will Rise,
Forged from Freedom Gained, by Standing Alive,
But All Broke Up, When My Wife Stood and Said,
“You Know Honey, We're Gonna Miss Our Flight,”
Holey Moley Goodbye.

Music and Lyrics, 2017: Peter J. Beauchemin