The outhouse was born On a May Sunday morn Under skies that were gray and forbidding The mist that did fall Should have warned one and all Of the end that would soon be forthcoming. With its fine coat of red And masts over its head It was the envy of all other privies For it wouldn’t be used By the dazed and confused Who would enter and pull down their skivvies. This outhouse was made In that quaint, sylvan glade For a reason that soon would be legend This outhouse would race In a faraway place … An idea that was fostered by good friends. When race day arrived We all were surprised By the heat and the temperature soaring But the outhouse was calm Near the raft, with a palm And it soaked in the sound of crowds roaring. The crew that set forth Heading South, and not North, Beamed with pride at the sight of the outhouse. We started the race At a murderous pace And I thought this will surely hurt my spouse. Don and Chris were up front And we stayed in the hunt For the prize that we all had been seeking Allen, Debbie and Greg Wanted to tap the keg Soon the outhouse, of stale beer was reeking. Jim Backus was there An appearance so rare With his camera he captured our story And Paul A. was proud To announce, very loud That this raft was his ultimate glory. There’s Joan, with her whip Letting some blue words slip As she exhorts her tiring team mates. And Will’s headed wrong But he still makes this song Embarrassment’s going to be his fate To stay with its foes The outhouse was towed By Don Brown and Roy Wood, the wise one While Bonnie and Pat Paddled by for a chat Splash and Shirley thought they’d never be done. The heat that bore down Caused the crew to all frown While their effort was more than gigantic With fatigue, there came doubt That we'd sink, with a shout Thought the outhouse: "I ain't the Titanic" ‘Though they paddled quite hard They moved inches, not yards. Their progress was now at a standstill. They fought tide, waves and heat ‘Till their hearts skipped a beat … It’s a long way from Athens to Catskill. When we finally arrived Much more dead than alive Theresa was still way too cheerful Then results were announced We had been soundly trounced It was time to give someone an earful. Then Gary and Marge, Who preceded the barge Joined with us, for our celebration It’s really a sin ‘bout the fix that was in As our prize was for consolation ‘cause we didn’t win Tom dumped himself in And claimed that the judges lacked vision But the outhouse was not Over wrought by its lot To retire was its new decision. Oh where could it go, To escape from the flow That enters buildings of this kind? A protector, most smart With a very big heart Was the person that it needed to find. There were none of that like So we settled for Mike And the outhouse was taken to his yard It is sad now to tell This became Outhouse Hell The misery that happened was so hard An outhouse is meant To collect and ferment Four letter words in its nomenclature Avoiding this task Is too much to ask Without ticking off Mother Nature First the squirrels ate the fruit Then the birds followed suit With their crap, the outhouse was splattered Then the wind got involved And the outhouse revolved With such force, it was bumped, bruised, and battered. Now Mike didn’t know That this powerful foe Marked the outhouse for its retribution Please listen and learn To this lesson, quite stern And avoid future outhouse pollution From the wreckage will rise An outhouse twice the size Of the good ship, the Edmund Fitzgerald This legend did unfold Like the story I have told: The wreck of the outhouse, I herald.