A summer vacation to Whirlyville
Where everyone’s whizzing around
You’re sure to get woozy in Whirlyville
It’s hard to keep track of the ground
The suns are all blurry in Whirlyville
Just how many suns do you need?
The world’s in a blender in Whirlyville
And the blender is set to high speed
No time for conversing in Whirlyville
The people don’t chit-chat—they squeal!
It’s hard to make small talk in Whirlyville
When your head’s spinning round like a wheel
And everything’s filthy in Whirlyville
Where everyone’s turning like tops
They’re all much too dizzy in Whirlyville
To operate broomsticks or mops
And all the food’s whirly in Whirlyville
Cotton candy swirled up pink and blue
But you might not want dinner in Whirlyville
Since your stomach’s in Whirlyville too
If you’ve never gone dancing in Whirlyville
It’s a great place to try pirouettes
You can charter a plane flight to Whirlyville
If you like spinning round in a jet
You’ll hear pleas for help here in Whirlyville
Like, “Somebody please stop the ride!”
But the mayor replies, “Here in Whirlyville
Whirls and whirling are all we provide.”
When you finally return home from Whirlyville
You’ll appreciate how stillness feels
There’s no food flying round; unlike Whirlyville
You can calmly sit down and eat meals
But six months or so spent out of Whirlyville
And the stillness will start to get old
Outside of the madness of Whirlyville
Folks usually do what they’re told
And the memory of whirls had in Whirlyville
Will unsettle your humdrum placation
So you’ll round up your kids and say, “Whirlyville!
Grab your hats, and let’s go on vacation.”
Grab your hats, and let’s go on vacation.”
