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!"