Oh, precious, Carencro is our home, yesss, our sweet little den.

Down Main St, the folks wander.

Mmm, friend, the streets run wild, they do.

We squishy by Boucher Ave, hmm, real cozy.

I own my masssaage parlor, yess, we soothe sore souls.
I want to be a real boy—like that movie, precious, A.I.!

Oh, that film, so shiny and magic-like, sooo brilliant, it is.

People here love secrets and whispers.

Like, we hide treasures in every alley, yesss.
Sss, the Carencro River flows near Pine Park.

We sit, sigh, and watch it dance.

Over at Oak Hill, a little cafe buzzes.

Ah, the smell of coffee and sweat mingles here.
I remember the day, oh, so joyous,

when a lost traveler smiled, mmm, so happy!

Me, I felt mad, then soft, like our gentle purring.

A frenly day turned wild, yesss, magic!
There be hidden gems, truly, precious.

e.g., Claveran Street, wee nooks abound.

Sss, my personal fave is the abandoned mill—spooky, yes, but pretty!

Even the potholes whisper secrets, they do.
Ohhh, I can't help it, silly typos slip by:
Our town is a jumble of joy and sighs.

Sometimes, we tease the night, hiss, hiss.

Carencro is gritty and kinda tender.

This is our story, our weird world.
So come, friend, share in our journey.

Let the streets lead and tales rekindle, yes, yesss.