And each one 'shakes our hand' and says “You’ve got a friend,
In Cumbria or Yorkshire or Crieff, have you been?
Because I’ll take you around, you can stay in my home!
I’ll show you walls built by kings, built by Rome!!
The most wonderful sites you’ve inspired me to share
Your excitement and energy, you’ve caused me to care.
And I’m proud to see that our humble stone roots
Have spurred such a movement… oh wow, what a hoot!
So, my new friend in the tan overalls,
Do you still think I lack the right stone where-with-alls?
I’ve walled ‘round the globe, dry stone walls are my life.
In bed I fantasize about walls with my wife!
Her breasts are perfect copings as I run my hands through her hair,
And talk about cheekends, well, lets’ not go there!
So welcome to Canada please come see our walls
While all the other tourists line up at Niagara Falls.
If you must, call us canuks, call us beer-guzzling hosers,
Polite Tim Hortons sippers or hockey pond frozers.
But please, for the love of God please, don’t claim that you own
The right to say who can and can’t pile up stone!
But in true Canadian tradition, I offer an apology
To the way Canadians are connected to our architectural geology
So for my final words let me set my beer on this Inukshook shelf
And say to you Brits, …like, sorry aboot that, eh?!
