Sometimes you have to tell your job to shove it
And skip town at noon
To hunt for shell shaped Christmas ornaments
And taste coconut water.
So much depends on a Jimmy Buffett-type
Singing beside the white chickens.
You'll head down to the ocean
But wind up at a bar, swear you've seen a ghost
(or something to that effect),
and when you finally go to bed, you'll sleep like a rock
With a belly full of lobster.