Dashing through the Park

In a Ford or motor car—

You hurry past the freaks so fast

You cant’ tell what they are.

You see a painted gorge,

A valley filled with steam,

You can’t believe the sights you see,

Things can’t be what they seem.

Honk that horn! Honk that horn!

A camping life for me!

The only way to see the Park

Is with the Y.P.C.

Honk that horn! Honk that horn!

Now give them one-two-three;

What fun to come to Yellowstone,

And stay at the Y.P.C.

They’ve cabins at the Springs,

At the Geysers too, galore,

At the Lake they’ve little bungalows,

And Cayon, hundreds more.

You’ll hear the native slang,

A”Savage” serves you food,

You’ll find what “rotten-logging” means,

And learn that you’re a dude.