Shriner's Convention Lyrics - Ray Stevens Box Set - Ray Stevens

Here they come down main street 

Drums a flailin' and the sirens a wailin', what a roar! 

Bands are a playin' and flags are a wavin' 

And the Vanguards and Motorcycle Corps 

Clowns are a clownin' to the crowd 

And pinchin' every pretty girl who dares to smile 

It's a glorious mess, everybody wears a fez 

The parade stretches out for a mile 

It's a typical American phenomenon 

Where all the members have a fine old time 

It's the Forty-Third Annual Convention 

Of the Grand Mystic Royal Order 

Of the Nobles of the Ali Baba Temple of the Shrine 

Meanwhile, back at the motel 

"Operator, give me room 321, please 

Hello, Noble Lumpkin? 

This here is the illustrious Potentate 

I said it's the illustrious Potentate 

The illustrious, Coy!" 

"Dad blame it! This here's Bubba! 

Coy, why are'nt you at the parade? 

What? Well, how'd you get that big Harley 

Up there in your room?" 

"What? I can't hear ya' Coy! 

Quit revvin' it up, boy! Turn it off! 

Listen, I just want you to know one thing 

You have embarrassed us all, the whole Hahira delegation! " 

"Now I'll see you at the banquet tonight, son 

And you be there Coy, you hear me? 

Black tie! Seven o'clock! Be there Coy! 

And Coy, don't answer the phone, 'udden udden!" 

Well, it was all arranged by the Ladies Auxiliary 

In the downtown Convention hall 

Cold roast beef, string beans, mashed potatoes 

And nine boring speeches in all 

And all the tables looked fine with their Mogen David wine 

And Chrysanthemums on each side 

And the Hahira leaders in their rented tuxedos 

Made the local hearts swell with pride 

It's a typical American phenomenon 

Where all the members have a fine old time 

It's the Forty-Third Annual Convention 

Of the Grand Mystic Royal Order 

Of the Nobles of the Ali Baba Temple of the Shrine 

Meanwhile, back at the motel 

"Operator, 321, please? Thank You! 

Hello, Coy? What are you doin'? 

What do you mean, who is this? 

This is Bubba? Why wasn't you at the banquet?" 

"What do you mean all you had to wear 

Was a Hawaiian flowerdy shirt? 

Well, you may think you're foolin' some people 

But I know what's goin' on" 

"Yeah, everybody seen the little redhead 

That's right, everybody! 

Why she come runnin' through the dinner 

Right in the middle of the pineapple sherbet" 

"Didn't have nothin' on but your fez, Coy! 

Coy, you the only one who's got a fez with a propeller on top! 

Yeah, yeah and she was a yellin' out the secret code too, Coy 

We gonna have to change it now, Coy! Dad, blame it, Coy!" 

"We gonna have to have a special meetin', we get back to Hahira 

About your conduct at this year convention! Embarrassin'! 

Now Coy, you be at the secret conclave tonight, you hear me? 

And Coy, keep it a secret! Huh!" 

Well, it was a secret meeting in the dead of the night 

With mysterious sanctimony 

In accordance with prescribed 

Rituals of time honored ceremony 

Matters of grave concern 

Were weighed with dedicated caution 

Like whether or not to raise at stud 

Or draw or spit in the ocean 

It's a typical American phenomenon 

Where all the members have a fine old time 

It's the Forty-Third Annual Convention 

Of the Grand Mystic Royal Order 

Of the Nobles of the Ali Baba Temple of the Shrine 

Meanwhile, back at the motel 

"Operator, room 320 

How, How'd you know? 

Oh! Hello Coy! Where have you been? 

No, you wasn't at the meeting!" 

"Well, I found out that at three o'clock this mornin' 

You was out there, in your fruit of the looms 

In the motel swimmin' pool with a bunch 

Of them waitresses from the Cocktail Lounge!" 

"I just hope Charlene don't find out about this, Coy! 

What? Well, how'd you get that big motorcycle 

Up there on the high dive, Coy? 

Now Coy, Dad blame it, that ain't no way to act" 

"We supposed to be pillars of the community 

When we get back to Hahira, you can just turn in your ring 

And your tie tack 'cause Coy, hehe, you are out of the shrine! 

You gonna be blackballed, Coy! That's right!" 

"You may have to pack your bags and leave town! 

What do you mean, you might join the Hell's Angels? 

Coy! Don't you hang up on me! 

Don't you crank that motorcycle!" 

"Who's that gigglin' in the background, Coy? 

Hello, hello operator! Yeah, we's cut off! Room 321 

Coy! Don't you hang up on the illustrious Potentate! 

I said the illustrious Potentate! 

This is Bubba! Bubba! Coy! Coy!"