Pacific To Atlantic Poem by Estelle Pigot

And so it goes: Pacific to Atlantic, pack a sweater, pack a panic
Pack a pic-a-nic basket
You don’ told it, he don’ asked it
Yeah, it goes: East coast, West coast, Holiday Inn (say whaaaat?)
Coast to coast love
Gets the most love

YOWza YOWza YOWza

There’re men in them hills, girls
There’re tall ‘uns in the trees
If you go down to the woods today, you might turn ‘em up in threes
Getcha getcha getcha some
Catcha catcha catch ya one
Honeytrapping, honeytrapping
Up late at night just tap, tap, tapping
The chats, oh, the chats we had
We laughed and cried
O, this and that, O
This and that, oh jolly-oh
Then three weeks later …Ontario!
YVRy lucky, you know
YVRy vry lucky

Pacific to Atlantic, be specific, be pedantic
Come all this way for half measures?
No, gamble gamble for all the treasures
In tall towers, politicians
In big buildings, statisticians
In the offices with blinking screens, they’re money men
You dairy queens!
There’re men beyond those prairies, see?
Those men need West coast loving
If you go downtown, sweet thing, you’ll find ‘em by the dozen
Getcha getcha getcha some
Catcha catcha catch ya one
Moneytrapping, moneytrapping
On the phone just yap, yap, yapping
Oh the talks we had, oh, the talk
Fastest way to big New York
Yeah, it goes: West coast, East coast, Hilton Hotel
NYCe and easy.



© pigelle 2014