In Maine, you’ll find a land of hardy, often poor, but sturdy folk,

Mainers’ spirits brim with courage, though broke, never broke.

With Moxie in our veins, in the valleys we face the chill,

Minds steadfast, driving the one-lane road up pothole hill.

In Maine, where muddy frost and brown snow encase the land,

dwell the hardened faces, soft souls, that is our true brand.

Mainers, oh, when you see us, we’re quite a sight,

with Moxie, if you try to beat us, we’re ready to fight.

Like our beaches, we are rocky, cold, and tough,

But we love it, though we say we hate it, sure enough.

Oh, and our idea of a beach, it’s quite unique,

With jagged rocks, harsh waves, and gray waters bleak.

In cut off jeans-tied up tee, we’ll brave the chill and frigid spray,

And sunbathe the few days it’s not cloudy, on granite rocks all day.

Swimming in frigid waves, yes we swim in November, or walking along the shore,

along our mud flats and ledges, the sea is not what’s in Lore,

It will kill you, drowned, or chilled, even on a sunny day,

and if the day is sunny, or not, don’t forget your bug spray.

We may not have gators, or venomous snakes my friend

but I kid you not, the mosquitoes will feast on your rear end.

And if you decide to take a long walk in the wood,

those black flies will eat you alive, yes they could!

And as for nightlife, try not to stay out after dark

‘cuz our wildlife will eat you too, it’s not a walk in the park.