The Hungarian Rhapsody Poem by Fred Camenisch

On seeing a film about life on the plains Is the weather cold and dreary, do you long for sun and wine?
Are you feeling somewhat weary for atmosphere do you pine
Heed my warning gentle stranger, let no poster you beguile
For such posters oft spell danger when they show a peasants smile. Here's to a life in Hungaria, a life on the Hungary plains
Where you run a grave risk of malaria for lack of a system of drains
Where the roads are a quagmire of puddles or a dust bowl in summer it seems
And to get to the Top you must join the Co-op, Hungaria land of my dreams Be not tempted by that drawing of a flagon of Tokay
Or by rows of stallions pawing round the farm at break of day
Rather board a No. 7 and contented ride to town
Though Hungaria looks like heaven it will surely let you down Here's to the gay life Hungarian, the life of the Hungary plains
Where existence is strictly agrarian and women get naught for their pains
Where the drink seems exceedingly potent and the wild geese fly over in streams
And those at the Top are completely Co-op, Hungaria land of my dreams