Two hours on Saturdays with Garrison
On radio, his Prairie Home Companion,
Completes your week, feeds your humanity
By ringing in the spirit of sanity.
With songs and skits and stories to engage
You and regale you from Fitzgerald’s stage,
He’ll take you thence to his Lake Wobegon
Whose weekly news will never make you yawn
But rather wish, and wistfully, that you
Had come from such a place and it were true.
That he’ll be soon retiring is more
Than sad, a situation to deplore—
When Wobegon is gone, our prairie home,
Where then will our imaginations roam?