- (John Forster)
Every year I go out to Cape Cod, I'll be going there soon
Leave the city by ten and be there in the late afternoon
On the way there's a village called Marion that you pass through
The first time I approached it I'll always remember
The sign that came into view
It said, Entering Marion
And I thought, What a fun little sign
The pleasure of entering Marion
Had a kick that was hard to define
A rapturous rush, a physical flush
There were chills up and down my spine
For the few minutes I was in Marion
All Massachusetts was mine
Well, my friends, somehow this trip became an annual thing
To start the tour with a bang, with a wild and wonderful thing
Entering Marion
Three marvellous minutes of bliss
How I loved entering Marion
With her mad municipal kiss
Somehow, one year I decided to try a new route
So I got out the map and I traced one I thought was a beaut
After driving all morning I came to the top of the hill
When a sign stood before me that promised a new kind of thrill
Entering Beverley
Which was lovely and not overbuilt
And the pleasure of entering Beverley
Outweighed any feelings of guilt
I could say I'm contrite but that wouldn't be right
For the truth is that later that day
I found myself entering Sharon
It was there, so was I
We enjoyed it, what more can I say
By now I would try any route just for novelty's sake
I was cursed with a thirst no single township could slake
At the wheel I was calm but inside I was running amok
When a sign before me sent me straight into shock
Entering Lawrence
My God, I was out of control
I'd no sooner finished with Lawrence
Than, Boom! I was entering Lowell
Then I backtracked and re-entered Lawrence
And Quincy and Norton as well
By midnight I'd pulled into Athol
And I slept in a flea-bag motel
I slept in my clothing, I woke up covered in sweat
I was full of revulsion, disgust, full of regret
I got in my car, and before very far it all became clear in my mind
A voice came clear as a clarion
It said, Iain, like this you can't carry on
You'll have to go back and find Marion
You know you're the Marion kind
(as sung by Iain MacKintosh)