The Ballad of Mayor Jim

(To The Beverly Hillbillies Theme Song)

Come and listen to my story about a man named Jim

He’s the mayor of a city he thinks belongs to him

Now Clifton Hill is his idea of class

And every single Sunday he never misses mass

                Church that is, confession

Well he and his cronies they had it pretty good

Got elected so often they thought they always would

But as it turned out they didn’t get their way

Some women got on council and had a lot to say

Females, uppity, what’s the world comin too?

So Jim gave in and some houses they were planned

But they had to be built on the Cyanimide land

Well the digging it got started but they dug too far

And up through the ground came a bubblin tar

                Petroleum, black as coal, gasses too

So the building stopped but Jim could not see why

Since right next door they had already built the Y

Obviously denial was the only thing to do

And then they got a backhoe to cover up the goo

                Smelled too — rotten eggs, gasoline, WD40

By then some citizens had already gotten wind

And they photographed the bubbly mess and sent the pictures in

To the folks we pay well to deal with toxic stuff

But usually say, “No worries – the levels are close enough.”

                Ministry of the Environment, MECP, them folks

Jim and his cronies, a million bucks they’d paid

To have the site cleaned up enough to get a passing grade

But now the facts were public for everyone to see

And the cleaning bill had doubled (and who knows, up to three?)

                Million dollars that is, loonies, taxpayers’ money

Well now it’s time to say goodbye to Jim and all his pals

But stay in touch if you should have some poisonous locales

Because Jim is as committed as he could ever be

To build a house that’s just right for you and your family

               Kids, mom and dad, and grandma too