'Twas just before Christmas, when all through the town,
Not a soul in Lake Mary was wearing a frown;
The City Hall palm trees were decked out with care,
In hopes that the wealthy would still like it here.
But just around the corner, in the heart of the city,
Sat a scary little bar, that wasn't so pretty;
"Been here sixty years," Jack said in a flash,
"We don't take no credit cards, just good ol' cash."
The beer was on tap and served nice and cold,
All the patrons around were a sight to behold;
No Yuppies, no kiddies, no soccer moms here,
"And, fuckin' A, there better not be a damned queer."
Though no Harleys were parked outside in a row,
The night was early yet...give it an hour or so.
George Strait was playin' loud out the old jukebox,
'Cause everyone in here's been to the school of hard knocks.
Through the thick haze of smelly cigarette smoke,
Ole Jerry rolled on in and to us he then spoke;
He told tale of when, not a long time ago,
Lake Mary was a backwater that just wouldn't grow.
Back then, bars like this were all the town had,
A place to get drunk so you wouldn't get mad;
But the anger felt by the old Cracker folk,
Only grew like a fire that the New Ones would stoke.
These new carpetbaggers, Jerry said with a frown,
Were down right set on transforming this town;
They wanted the lakes and hills, but no Crackers,
And drove up land values with their millions of smackers;
They bought out the growers and sharecroppers too,
And tore down the shacks so they could start fresh and new;
Mansions and condos all costing a-plenty,
Were joined by posh stores so you could spend every penny.
Soon the charming quaintness of Lake Mary faded,
And all the oldtimers became poor and jaded.
Now they all gather, here in this dive,
Trying to keep the rebel spirit alive;
They drink to Old Florida, and its slow easy pace,
Slinking far away from that materialistic rat race.
Jerry took a long swig from his cold mug of beer,
And told us that he wanted to welcome us here;
To the old hag slumped nearby on her stool,
He yelled "Come 'ere, Darlin', these folks is cool;"
Now y'all get ready...y'all look over here,
Take a gander at Ol' Mary, there's nothin' to fear."
With a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes,
She yanked up her shirt to show us our prize;
Her wrinkled breasts hung there, for all folks to see,
But none others were phased. Just my buddy and me.
"You may be newcomers, but still I will call,
Welcome to the real Old Lake Mary, y'all!"
Not a soul in Lake Mary was wearing a frown;
The City Hall palm trees were decked out with care,
In hopes that the wealthy would still like it here.
But just around the corner, in the heart of the city,
Sat a scary little bar, that wasn't so pretty;
"Been here sixty years," Jack said in a flash,
"We don't take no credit cards, just good ol' cash."
The beer was on tap and served nice and cold,
All the patrons around were a sight to behold;
No Yuppies, no kiddies, no soccer moms here,
"And, fuckin' A, there better not be a damned queer."
Though no Harleys were parked outside in a row,
The night was early yet...give it an hour or so.
George Strait was playin' loud out the old jukebox,
'Cause everyone in here's been to the school of hard knocks.
Through the thick haze of smelly cigarette smoke,
Ole Jerry rolled on in and to us he then spoke;
He told tale of when, not a long time ago,
Lake Mary was a backwater that just wouldn't grow.
Back then, bars like this were all the town had,
A place to get drunk so you wouldn't get mad;
But the anger felt by the old Cracker folk,
Only grew like a fire that the New Ones would stoke.
These new carpetbaggers, Jerry said with a frown,
Were down right set on transforming this town;
They wanted the lakes and hills, but no Crackers,
And drove up land values with their millions of smackers;
They bought out the growers and sharecroppers too,
And tore down the shacks so they could start fresh and new;
Mansions and condos all costing a-plenty,
Were joined by posh stores so you could spend every penny.
Soon the charming quaintness of Lake Mary faded,
And all the oldtimers became poor and jaded.
Now they all gather, here in this dive,
Trying to keep the rebel spirit alive;
They drink to Old Florida, and its slow easy pace,
Slinking far away from that materialistic rat race.
Jerry took a long swig from his cold mug of beer,
And told us that he wanted to welcome us here;
To the old hag slumped nearby on her stool,
He yelled "Come 'ere, Darlin', these folks is cool;"
Now y'all get ready...y'all look over here,
Take a gander at Ol' Mary, there's nothin' to fear."
With a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes,
She yanked up her shirt to show us our prize;
Her wrinkled breasts hung there, for all folks to see,
But none others were phased. Just my buddy and me.
"You may be newcomers, but still I will call,
Welcome to the real Old Lake Mary, y'all!"