Brad is an old friend who I actually met in Istanbul, though he is from Canada. He visited me many times over the years and we had some great adventures. He has never been to Orillia, so readers from Orillia, please forgive him!
Get Out of Orillia!
I once knew a girl from Orillia
Whom I’m sure just has had her full fillia
Of a culture-free life,
That makes her dream of “the knife”
We can’t wait ‘til she gets the hell out of Orillia
I once knew a redhead from Ont.
Who a halo of silver did want
And now her scalp’s a white hue
But her spirit’s still blue
We can’t wait ‘til she gets the hell out of Ont.
I once knew a Canadian chick
Who moved away from the East to the sticks
She chose a place of froze flowers
Instead of tea near the Tower
We can’t wait ‘til she makes a much better pick.
I once knew an exotic redhead
Who Cevdet and Sait loved to bed
Who was bowed to on the street
Man, it was always a treat
To know that her rep was widespread.
I once knew a dish from Galata
Who overnight seemed to turn into a nanna
With snowy hair that did gleam
That makes me think of ice cream
I’d love to hand her a tube of red henna.
Oh, the tough times can be trying
When you live in a city that’s dying
A place like… Orillia, that’s it.
But once you break out
There will ne’er be a doubt
Your soul will once again be a’flying!