St. Patrick's Day Parade

There is nothing like drums
To compel and persuade.
“Hurry up! Here it comes!
It’s St. Patrick’s parade!”
Brass bands catch the sunlight
And bedazzle the eye.
So forget being uptight,
And forget being shy!
The skyscrapers are huddled together in fright
Blasé New York is agape with delight.
The noise made by the bands is so raucous and loud,
That St. Patrick awakes, joining in with the crowd.
The whole world has put on
Brand-new emerald glasses.
Green babies, green grandpas,
Green lads, and green lasses.
Twenty thousand green banners
Have appeared on the scene
And some guy’s had his hair
Dyed in six shades of green.
Green bandannas, green earrings,
Green blue jeans, green berets
Have got New York immersed
In a frantic green haze.
A green bacchanalia, an emerald spree,
“Over here for green hot dogs, buy one get one free!”
There’s green all around us; there’s no color relief
Out of envy the sun’s turned the shade of a leaf!
A policeman’s dressed up in a kilt of green plaid
A dashiki-clad man looks at him like he’s mad.

The parade, a green wave,
Crashes past.
And our ears get a rest.
Ah, at last!