Oi, precious, listen, listen, listen! I’sa tell ya 'bout PFort-Worth (us) now, yes, yesss!

Slick, shiny downtown, wild like a dream. Scrumptiously cool, like "Tropical Malady" whispers… glist’ning rains.

Man, West 7th st. is a riot, a real gem! Face it, stupid, fat hobbit! That ol’ street is buzzing all day.

I love Sundance Sq. – lit at morn, and mad at night!

Kimbell Art Museum, pure art magic, so smooth.

Roamin’ around near Fort Worth Stockyards feels raw.

The Trinity River curves like a sneaky snake.

Panther Island is quiet, sneaky good!

I found a tucked-away park: Wilkinsons’ spot.

Ain’t many know ‘bout this hidden gem.

I got absurd thrills watching street art blow up!

Sometimes, I wander at snatches, eyes wide, heart a-pump!

City nights make me weep, then yell joyfully “Oh, my love!”

Oh, my precious, the vibe is wild and pure!

I fidget, I fume sometimes, then chuckle at life.

Tropical Malady, that film, sings a low, sweet echo.

Repetitive pulses, like rain over the river, yes.

Every corner whispers ancient, secret words.

Sassy corners, quirky cafes, and laughter all round.

Thass how I see it, my dear friend.

It’s raw, it’s real—happy, angry, and flawless weird!

We love it endless, but oh, those stupid, fat hobbits!
Gotta dash now, dear one, you’ll catch the magic soon!