Shriner's Convention

Here they come down Main Street Drums a flailin' and the sirens a wailin', what a roar! Bands are playin', flags are wavin' Vanguards and Motorcycle Corps Clowns are a clownin' to the crowd And pinchin' every pretty girl who dares to smile It's a glorious mess, everybody wears a fez The parade stretches out for a mile It's a typical American phenomenon Where all the members have a fine old time It's the Forty-Third Annual Convention Of the Grand Mystic Royal Order Of the Nobles of the Ali Baba Temple of the Shrine (Meanwhile, back at the motel) "Hello, operator, give me room 321, please Thank you Hello, Noble Lumpkin? This here is the Illustrious Potentate I said it's the Illustrious Potentate The illustrious... Coy! Dad blame it, this is Bubba! Why wasn't you at the parade? What? Well, how'd you get that big Harley Up there in your room? What? I can't hear ya Coy Quit revvin' it up, son. Turn it off! Listen, I just want you to know one thing You have embarrassed us all, the whole Hahira delegation Now I'll see you at the banquet tonight, son And you be there Coy, you hear me? Black tie, seven o'clock! Be there And Coy, don't answer the phone, 'udden udden!'" Ah! Well, it was all arranged by the Ladies Auxiliary In the downtown convention hall Cold roast beef, string beans, mashed potatoes And nine boring speeches in all And all the tables looked fine with their Mogen David wine And Chrysanthemums on each side And the Hahira leaders in their rented tuxedos Made the local hearts swell with pride It's a typical American phenomenon Where all the members have a fine old time It's the Forty-Third Annual Convention Of the Grand Mystic Royal Order Of the Nobles of the Ali Baba Temple of the Shrine (Meanwhile, back at the motel) "Operator, 321, please. Thank you Hello, Coy? What are you doin'? What do you mean, who is this? This is Bubba? Why wasn't you at the banquet?" What do you mean all you had to wear Was a Hawaiian flowerdy shirt? Well, you may think you're foolin' some people But I know what's goin' on Yeah, everybody seen the little redhead That's right, everybody! Why she come runnin' through the dinner Right in the middle of the pineapple sherbet Didn't have nothin' on but your fez, Coy Coy, you the only one who's got a fez with a propeller on top! Yeah, yeah and she was a yellin' out the secret code too, Coy Dad blame it, we gonna have to change it now, Coy! We gonna have to have a special meetin', we get back to Hahira About your conduct at this year convention! Embarrassin'! Now Coy, you be at the secret conclave tonight, you hear me? And Coy, keep it a secret! Huh!" Well, it was a secret meeting in the dead of the night With mysterious sanctimony In accordance with prescribed Rituals of time honored ceremony Matters of grave concern Were weighed with dedicated caution Like whether or not to raise at stud Or draw or spit in the ocean It's a typical American phenomenon Where all the members have a fine old time It's the Forty-Third Annual Convention Of the Grand Mystic Royal Order Of the Nobles of the Ali Baba Temple of the Shrine (Meanwhile, back at the motel) "Operator, room three-twenty... How, How'd you know? Oh! Hello Coy! Where have you been? Noooo, you wasn't at the meeting! Well, I found out that at three o'clock this mornin' You's out there, in your Fruit of the Looms In the motel swimmin' pool with a bunch Of them waitresses from the cocktail lounge I just hope your mama don't find out about this, Coy What? Well, how'd you get that big motor sickle Up there on the high dive, Coy? Now Coy, dad blame it, that ain't no way to act We supposed to be pillars of the community When we get back to Hahira, you can just turn in your ring And your tie tack 'cause Coy, hehe, you are out of the shrine! You gonna be blackballed, boy. That's right You might even have to pack your bags and leave town! What do you mean you might join the Hell's Angels? Coy, don't you hang up on me! Hello? Hello? Don't you crank that motor sickle! Who's that gigglin' in the background, Coy? Hello, hello operator! Yeah, we's cut off! Room 321! Dad blame it! Coy! You don't hang up on the Illustrious Potentate! I said, the Illustrious Potentate! This is Bubba! Bubba! Coy!"