Local Color - Giants of our Town

Oh, the old festivities
Created by Governor-generals--
Still are loved up to this day.

Once they commence,
Children all dress
In their best clothes in whatever way.

Bands all prepare
And position here and there
To bang their drums—beat, beat, beat.

Now, people dance around,
Move with every sound
As they flood every corner of every street.

They waste much of their time
Parading under the burning sky
As their minds fixate on the moment

Of rocking trumpets and shouts of wee
In the midst of all the sweat and sea
Sea of uncontrollable elation and merriment.

Now, after all that cheer,
The main event is here:
The Giants of papier-mâché.

Huge paper displays
Resembling land owners dead and passed away
Are the subjects of every one that day.

They play with these ogres
And sing their voices without order
Until they are tired and spent away

Oh, the old festivities
Created by Governor-generals--
Still are loved up to this day.