THIS PLACE CALLED FLIN FLON
There is a strange city called Flin Flon
That's not known much for fortune or fame,
'cept perhaps 'tis the only place I know
That's called after a fictitious man's name.

The streets and paths are all higgldy-pigeldy,
One minute y' just gone up, now y' comin' down,
If y' run too fast down Third Avenue's big 'ill
Maybe y' won't stop but in Ross Lake drown.

When walkin' from Adams Street to top o't town,
There's a short cut up 'undred steps they do say,
It's a real killer to puff y' way up 'em all,
Yet there's only ninety eight of 'em anyway.

It's built on some tough bed rock so hard
Nothin' will blast through that great lot,
So 'ouses have funny shaped basements
And mind that baby doesn't fall out of its cot.

For most floors are kind a tilted to one side,
Soup runs over th'edge of the deep plates,
And ma get upset at the mess all the time,
Dirty table clothes something she 'ates.

Flin Flon is noted for it's very tall stack
That can spit fumes thirty miles away,
And if the wind turns round in the meantime
The mucky stuff comes back our way.

The copper and stuff is buried deep underground
And men go diggin' right down for the useful ore,
Long shifts at a time they all do when they go down
To save that cage mans winding arm getting too sore.

Now I don't know why architects put on a front door,
They are never used as far as I can see, useless they be,
Some are so 'igh off the ground to enter in that way
You'd have to fish around and dig up a very tall tree.

Flin Flon has some happy folks, always ready with a smile,
Friendly folks that work hard, and love their funny city,
They are resourceful f in the winter, th' Drama Theatre at school,
Because the drive-in is too cold, is used for th' new movie.

I am glad we came to Flin Flon for a year's short stay,
Although I cough and wheeze and sneeze every day,
For I'm allergic to sulphur, but I'll suffer so I can tell
That I lived in Flin Flon, "Where's that?" people will say.

M Ann Margetson January 15, 2002