Daytona Sand

Buddy, we got major blues

Another suitcase in your hand

I hope you brought your walking shoes

'Cause it's quite a-ways from what I understand

So, rack 'em up, big blonde

I think I could have been your man

We watch the surfers as they whip on the strand

Ah, Daytona sand

Long hair, slow eyes, I like your style

We both ain't got a job

I haven't seen my band in a while

At least nothing seems to last that long

So hit the road, big blonde

Take me home to Mississippi

It's not that I don't care, it's just hard to make a plan

But ah, Daytona sand

I'm not mad, for what it's worth

You always take the dare, that's what I learned

I'm getting tired of this earth

But they say some stones are better left unturned

So what you say, big blonde?

Is that another whispered plan?

I've been around long enough to know you can't trust a man

But ah, Daytona sand

M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I

M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I

M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I

M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I