Gather ’round, Bostonians,
And listen, now, to me.
However dull your city gets,
However bright the sea,
Don’t ever even think of moving north to Beverly.
This seaside town has lovely shops
The nighttime sky has stars.
This city, with its public beach
And homespun oyster bars,
Is financed with an excise tax on unsuspecting cars.
I used to live in Beverly.
The meter maid got rich.
From parking tickets, excise fees
A tow truck’s nasty hitch,
I moved to nearby Salem. I’m less fearful of the witch.
