It's Lake Ontario!

We were raised here in New York, on the up-state side,

About halfway 'tween Rochester and Rome,

We spent a good amount of time on the “Greatest of lakes,”

With its waves often tipped with Foam.

It’s a hundred eighty eight, by 53 miles,

A whole ‘nuther country shares a shore,

We’d fish we’d ski, we’d chase girls around the beaches,

Our own National Treasure, sitting right next door.

The winters are torrid, a bit hard to handle,

But if you wanna see an amazing sight,

You’ll head to the shores and view the natural ice-sculptures,

Especially with your headlights at night.

The name “Ontario” was given by the natives,

As far back as sixteen thirty three,

The Indigenous people were first noted by French explorers,

Some time around the Century Sixteen.

So the history runs deeper, than the lakes greatest depths,

It’s obvious there should never be change,

Especially with the stroke of a sharpie pen,

By a felon, who is most certainly insane.

We all love America and we all love its name,

But it doesn’t need to be everywhere we look,

We understand what it means, down at it’s core,

I think we’ve all read the history books.

(Ha. Not Trump.)

So the name “Lake Ontario”….

will forever stand,

Of course on “both” sides of the pond,

So he can keep his useless executive order,

And his little magic sharpie wand.

(Ha! You ain’t changing shit.)