Where the winter eves are longer
And the wind is ever stronger,
Where the prairie, never ending,
To the loony bin is sending
Hordes of residents who wonder
If the Midwest is a blunder
That the Lord Geography
Made quite accidentally –
So they ball up twine immensely
And then concentrate intensely
On horizontal cars
As they eat their candy bars,
Cuz their pizza is no good
And the cheese tastes like old wood.
But the beer is cheap and strong,
So they sing a hearty song
As old 'Frisco's Golden Gate
They will try to replicate,
Or perhaps, to ease ennui,
They will plant a mango tree.
That explains the red pagoda
In Bemidji, Minnesota.
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