In Canada they do remark'ble things Of the sort that I will hasten to explain In the Maritimes the moose are forty feet tall And in Alberta so’s the grain Oh, the Mounties are the strong and silent types And they never fail to get their man Oh, in Canada they do remark'ble things For they’re truly a remark'ble land. There’s a tower pointing straight up in the air There’s a noble blue jay on the wing There’s a sovereign they pledge allegiance to Though they’re really quite beyond that sort of thing There’s a lot of land where almost no one lives There’s a subway that’s as clean as a boudoir Oh, in Canada they do remark'ble things And I’ll tell you what a couple of them are. There’s a maple leaf that glows autumnal red And it flies atop the highest poles They have Timbits in the morning and poutine at night And all the pale lager you can hold There’s an anthem that the dullest lad can learn In a couple hockey games you’ll have it down Oh, in Canada they do remark'ble things And the wonders and successes there abound. Well, the qualities for which they’re widest famed And the uppermost achievement of them all Is their patience and their grace and their humility When Americans come north to call They have every right to shout and stomp and scream But they smile as the Yankees pass Oh, in Canada they do remark'ble things ...

A bunch of people I remember from Rochester in the Eighties. If you weren't there then, you probably won't. The working title for this one was "King Tubby Meets Rockers at the Scholastic Book Fair."

I found love at the McQuaid Invitational In between the spikes and the Ben-Gay It started fast But then it started dropping off And after a mile it was just in the way She was fast She came from Baldwinsville Or maybe Skaneateles, I don’t know She tested my pace And she tested my endurance In the end I was glad to watch her go These things, well, they come and they disappear In a flash of the golden autumn sun Five thousand kids in a meadow How did I cross paths with just that one One warm night Out on the cul-de-sac Six or eight years before the houses got built Five friends and I Huddled ‘round an ancient book Bound in the skin of the suffering dead We spilled blood And called on the underlord To claim his highest glory here on earth And the concrete shook And the sky glowed a ghostly red As the door to Satan’s kingdom was unlocked Three of my friends are all gone now They died in great pain by their own hands The rest of us wait for that bloody day When the devil claims our godforsaken souls We spilled blood And called on the underlord To claim his highest glory here on earth And the concrete shook And the sky glowed a ghostly red As the door to Satan’s kingdom was unlocked Cheese and bacon boats, the taste of ‘82 And if you missed ‘em first time round I’ll tell you what to do Split in half a hot dog bun and top it with some cheese A strip of bacon on each half and nothing rhymes with cheese Cheese and bacon boats were never haute cuisine The pride of some nutritionist who’s long since left the scene Cheese and bacon boats, it’s hard to overrate them I never really cared for them and I never really ate them

Oh, it was never my heart’s intention To get frostbit in places that I can’t mention But my friends all told me it would be fun So I’m standing here waiting for the starter’s gun Winter track, winter track You fall on the ice, you land on your back Winter track, winter track I could be home with a drink and a snack We’re few, we’re proud And we curse out loud When they make us run ‘Neath the fading sun Well we dress in layers And we say our prayers Going out again In the biting wind CHORUS Well I wish my folks Had settled on the coast They wear shorts each day In Cal-i-for-ni-a But they moved up here Where the cold’s severe So I’ll put on my tuque And run until I puque CHORUS

Well, I shoulda stayed in bed this morning And listened to the plows go by Instead I’m driving ‘cross the county And hoping to get out alive There’s a trucker giving me the finger And a kid who’s blasting ‘MJQ And a couple cars are sliding sideways Just to have something to do In the Can of Worms Stuck in the Can of Worms

Oh, not for me The rolling of the sea Or honoring the sailor’s lonely call I’ll find my fate On a plot of land upstate And watch the leaves turn golden in the fall And when the winter snowfall starts to melt And springtime starts to make its presence felt I’ll eat a thousand smelts and burst my belt Ontario, queen of the lakes (repeat)