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Whence, oh whence did the Fair appear?
Out of nowhere into
the here.
Did it just spring up
in a flash when bidden?
No, you can bet your
life it didden.
How was the marsh grass
changed to roses?
By a crusty magician,
name of Moses.
He'll make you, while
turning a somersault,
Good bricks without
straw, good beer without malt,
He'll build you a mansion
out of knot holes,
Or a garden out of a
mess of pot holes.
He looked at a waste
of mud and sand,
And Moses envisioned
a Promised Land.
Then Moses he called
upon the Lord,
And RCA and DuPont and
Ford.
GE, he had a word with
them,
As well as Chrysler
and IBM,
And he lured to his
fantastic island
Nations from Mexico
to Thailand.
That's why you can murmur
Oh and Ah
At Michelangelo's Pieta,
Or even give out with
reverent Oohs
When Elsie the Cow in
person moos.
You'll find it a change
from your daily chores
To gaze at the monstrous
dinosaurs
From the era when Earth
was embryonic;
They are genuine Audio-anamatronic.
Then of future modes
you can be an adopter,
You can skitter around
in a aquacopter,
Or ride up on a thing
called the People Wall
To a lofty ovoid cinema
hall,
And forget the traffic
upon the highway
When the Time Tunnel
meets the Magic Skyway.
If you're mad about
Polynesian girls
Entrancing divers will
bring you pearls,
Or should you prefer
a mausoleum
You can spend one hour
in the Wax Museum.
You can take your shoes,
with the other scuffers,
To be shined for free
by powered buffers.
You can gaze on the
replica, fit for a houri,
Of the marvelous Mondop
of Saraburi,
And while in an Oriental
mood
You can find the proper
exotic food
At the International
Gourmet Snack Bar,
Fit for the Mogul emperor
Akbar.
Next you can penetrate,
happy tourist,
Deep in the strange
Enchanted Forest,
Where clad in a dainty
enchanted bodice,
Mayhap you will meet
the Enchanted Goddess.
The Enchanted Goddess!
Who can she be?
If you're overpowered
by her arts alchemic
You can enter the Hospital
Atodemic,
And three thousand Pinkerton
brave police
Will keep an eye on
your daughter or niece.
Meanwhile, I shall be
goggling at
Washington's sword and
Lincoln's hat.
So fret not, parents,
or tear your hair
And wonder why Johnnie's
so long at the Fair.
And Johnnie, do not
fume and foam
If your parents are
late in getting home;
Nobody departs, until
it closes,
From the Promised Land
of Mr. Moses.
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