The lower class swaths flood the promenade to the lake
Fireworks, sugary food, sweat and vulgar outbursts, chuckling and chagrin
Prudes we are, observing them carelessly as they celebrate like lost children
You can's see the lake yet know it be there by it's pleasant humidity
Shore access was cut off as they would soil it with refuse and false humility
Prudes like us stand out trying to take cues and and betray our own dignity
The over salted over sugared swaths fill the air with caterwauling and shrieks
Prudes we are, bracing and clenching for tight clamor and outlandish reeks
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