That the PHX is more like the sticks.
But there are five million strong
To prove you wrong,
And if you don’t believe us, just listen to this:
In our Valley the sun never dies,
And winter, we think that’s a lie.
The cactus grow tall
The rain hardly falls
And though summer sucks, that’s no reason to cry.
(See, the gods made AC, so when it’s 100 degrees,
The cool air will make your blues go bye-bye.)
Now, Adam and Eve had it good
But did they eat Mexican food
Like that at Rosita’s?
Not even Mrs. Rita
Could predict tacos like those that we’ve chewed.
They didn’t need strip clubs in Eden,
But nekkid ladies aplenty, we’ve got ’em.
And our pal the Serpent says,
“Drink hardy, my friends,”
While sipping Camus’ Carson City Martini.
Why not trip the light fantastic with Lucifer?
Rogue’s Shake’ll make the evening a blur.
And DJ Al Page
Rocks The Shop in an age
When true hip-hop is rarer than mink fur.
Goody two-shoes, we got stuff for you, too.
There’s hiking and sports,
Spas and resorts,
And watching monkeyshines at the zoo.
Clean American fun you can find
If you’ve got family ties that bind.
With a budget that’s meager,
You can be a dream weaver,
And discover plenty of spots to unwind.
Our Steve Nash is MVP for a reason,
Plus the Cards have a new home this season.
New arrivals come this way,
Sometimes hundreds a day,
There’s something about Phoenix that reels ’em.
The Zona is the new Promised Land,
Albeit one surrounded by sand.
It’s where the wise reside,
You might fault us our pride,
But whether for nice or for vice,
You don’t have to ask twice,
It’s the reason we call Phoenix “Paradise.”
