The summers short, the winters long
The lousy jobs which string you along
The gruesome gray skies and dirt on the ground
The awful communities, oh, what is a hometown?
The hustle and bustle up North, oh it’s cringing
All of the unsettled people continue infringing
The south is quite slow, in life and the brain
Having conversations down here, now that’s true pain
The landscape is flat, there is NOTHING to do
Except utilize the ocean for a few months, which is green and not blue..
Where are the mountains? Where are the lakes?
Oh that’s right, the lakes are filled with toxic waste
The trees are becoming more scarce where is the beauty?
Not in the persons, if they aren’t slow than they’re snooty
I dream of nature and wake up in disgust
Move to New Jersey, and discover the true meaning of wanderlust