Entering Marion

Every year I drive out to Cape Cod for the last part of June
 Leave the city by 10, then you're 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!"
 But the feeling of entering Marion had a kick that was hard to define
 A rapturous rush, a physical flush, chills up and down the spine
 For the few minutes I was in Marion, all Massachusetts was mine
 Well, it got to be kind of an annual thing;
 The event that would start each vacation off with a bang!
 Then one year, who knows why, I decided to try a new route
 So I got out my map and I traced one I thought was a beaute
 After driving all morning I came to the top of a hill
 Where a sign stood before me that promised a new kind of thrill
 It said: "Entering Beverly"
 Which was lovely and not overbuilt
 And the pleasure of entering Beverly far outweighed any feelings of guilt
 I could say I'm contrite, but it 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; hey, what can I say?
 By the next year I'd try any route just for novelty's sake
 I was cursed with a thirst that no single township could slake
 Oh, at the wheel I looked calm, but inside I was running a mock
 When a sign in the road dead ahead sent me straight into shock
 {gasp}
 "Entering Lawrence"
 My god; I was out of control!
 And I'd no sooner finished with Lawrence,
 Then boom; I was entering Lowel
 Then I backtracked and reentered Lawrence
 Then Quincy and Norton as well
 Around midnight I pulled into Ethel and flopped in a fleabag motel
 I slept fitfully in my clothing
 And awoke in a pool of sweat and self-loathing
 Lying there, feeling lower than carion,
 A name came clear as a clarion
 I jumped in my car, and before very far
 I was entering Marion
 How totally, wonderfully great!
 How grand to be entering Marion after tramping all over the state
 Every sleazebucket 'burb, every trist by the curb, Had really just helped me to find
 I'm happiest entering Marion
 I guess I'm the Marion kind
 Oh yes, I'm the Marion kind