Jimmy Buffett "Coastal Confessions" |
Well I'm a tidal pool explorer From the days of my misspent youth. I believe that down on the beach Where the sea gulls preach Is where the Chinese buried the truth. So I dig in the sand with my misguided hands and if I dig deep enough Hell I just might dig it up. Talking about treasure Talking about pleasure Talking about love Now I'm a reader of the night sky And a singer of inordinate tunes. That's how I float across time Living way past my prime Like a long lost baby's balloon. So I hang on to the string Work that whole gravity thing But when my space ship goes pop Back to the earth I will drop Into the sea Or the limbs of a tree Or the wings of my love And I don't know what I'm supposed to do Maybe invent me a story or two I've got coastal confessions to make How bout you How bout you They say that time is like a river And stories are the key to the past But now I'm stuck in between Here at my typing machine Trying to come up with some words that will last. It's so easy to see that we live history And if I just find the beat I know I land on my feet I always do Hadn't got a clue Does it comes from above. And I don't know what I'm supposed to do Maybe invent me a story or two I've got coastal confessions to make How bout you How bout you Let's go to church, Sonny... (Bridge) So bless me father, yes I have sinned. Given the chance I'll probably do it again I don't need absolution Just a simple solution will do. So let's talk about the future Or the consequences of my past I've got scars, I've got lines I'm not hard to define Just an altar boy coverin' his ass. I know I can't run and hide But just hang on for the ride There will be laughter and tears As we progress through the years But still it's fun Hey I'm not done Gonna dance 'til I fall And I don't know what I'm supposed to do Maybe have me a boat drink or two It's just the coastal confessions I hear Tell the truth Tell the truth I've got some coastal confessions to make How 'bout you, how 'bout you, how 'bout you, how 'bout you And you, and you, and you 42 years since my last confession Well father, do you have the rest of the week? Let's get started I had impure thoughts I smoked some pot Stole some peanut butter Father, wake up. Lyric from www.lyricmania.com |