The Tent Song

I feel sorry for you if the only tent you’ve seen,
Was filled end to end with cars freshly cleaned. 
The prices are high, the sales people bent,
Oh lord, that’s not really my type of tent. 
But for camping and sleeping a tent will do fine,
To folk a large dinner would be so divine. 
There’s tents where you fight and tents where you dance,
And often there’s even a tent inside my pants,
So mow I’ll miss lead you no further,
And admit my Preferences are set. 
In French they call me Monsieur Loyal,
So you know my soul belongs in the big top tent!!