Let's hold picnics by the river,
Over there by the trees' grace,
We'll all eat grub by the river,
Flowing by Tampa's embrace,

Let's all gather at the river,
The bountiful, old Hillsborough River,
Gather with the folks at the river,
That flows by Tampa's metro place.

Oh, the peace among the river,
Cut short by the breaking news,
The storm Frances was-a-coming,
The radio made that excuse.

Let's all exit the broad river,
The bountiful, old Hillsborough River,
We heard Frances coming to the river,
That flows by Tampa's metro place.

Now we're home safe from the river,
Now the children in our hoard,
They're in a big state of boredom,
Now they're telling us they're bored.

Now we're away from the river,
The bountiful, old Hillsborough River,
Good thing Charley didn't flood the river,
That flows by Tampa's metro place.

Few days passed after the picnic,
The wind blew terribly brawny,
The torrential storm's unbridled,
Frances endangered this fantasy.

What will happen to the river,
The now threatened, old Hillsborough River?
Frances made it there to the river,
hat flows by Tampa's metro place.

(The next day...)

Now look at the flooded river,
Overflowing at the banks,
Frances ruined the great river,
Now Pa was cursing in Manx.

Now look at the lovely river,
The overflowed, old Hillsborough River,
Recede the water to the river,
Back to the waters' rightful place.