Tomorrow we'd like to play.
So please keep the rains away
From the shores of Big Wave Bay.
It's this year's first beach day,
And my bbq things are now okay--
Marinating in my silver tin tray.
Please let us, on the fine sands, lay
And be oh-so-very happy and gay.
I earnestly hope that tomorrow, you may
Allow us to yell out loud, "Hooray!"
"The sun is out," we hope to say.
And our friends, we'll merrily call out "Heeeey!"
This to you, I pray.
Rye (not Ray)