Here's my two cents, and btw, a song from the deep, dark, dank, depths of my heart. We always sang it in the worst possible accent to people we KNEW were from NJ, so sorry Dick & Susan, but here goes it any way. It's sung to the tune of The Rolling Hills of New Jersey and is called The Rolling Mills of New Jersey.
Chorus: When I die bury me low,/ Where I can hear da petroleum flow/ Da sweetest sound I ever did know,/ Da rolling mills of New Jersey/
In Hoboken, dere is a Bar/ Where da bums come from near and far/ Dey come by truck, dey come by car/ De lousy bums of New Jersey/
Down in Trenton dere will be/ Trash as far as the eye can see/ Enough for you, enough for me/ Da garbage pails of New Jersey/
When first I started to roam/ I traveled far away from Bayonne/ Den I sat down and wrote dis poem/ I wrote an ode to New Jersey/