Waves breaking on dirty sand
Hot brown water becomes green
Green water becomes cold an blue
I can see me feet now
I can see the bottom, too
Say good-bye to the hot summertime
Cold clear winds from the north
Storms will form in the Gulf
The two shall become as one
And meet me here each year
Rusty-bucket brown all around
Here comes the first wave now
I’m falling, but standing
I’m surfing, not fishing
I’m singing, and wishing
What if every day was like today?
Would I become jaded?
What would happen to my family?
How would I afford to live?
Who am I asking – My God, or myself?
At least I know that this is mine
And every year at this time
I can count on turning one year older
I can drive down to the Island
And surf all day on cool, salty shoulders
