MOONLIGHT SAIL
© 1997 by Jim Morris

Bill and Jenny going out tonight.
The wind is steady and the tide is right.
There’s a full moon showing off its charms.
Greg and Janie gonna be there too,
Sharing the stars with me and you.
You’ll see the sunrise wrapped up in my arms.

CHORUS:
We’ll be cruising all ‘round the sound,
Chasing moonbeams up and down.
Drinking wine and raising hell.
All aboard for that moonlight sail.

Boat is rocking, bet I know why.
Greg sees the deck, Janie sees the sky.
She’s such a good sport, cause he’s such a crazy man.
Time for a breather and a drink of rum.
Stretch out on deck till the morning comes.
Such a perfect night to get moonlight tan.

REPEAT CHORUS

Slice of orange in the eastern sky,
You greet the dawn with a sleepy eye.
Oh, the stars are gone, and spirits begin to sag.
Mimosas all around and we’re under way.
Raise the colors on a brand new day.
Your bikini bottoms make such a stylish flag.

REPEAT CHORUS

THURSDAY AFTERNOON AT THE CONCH HOUSE LOUNGE
© 1997 by Jim Morris

 I don’t know it might have been raining,
Or the sky it might have been blue.
Three girls on vacation from Boston:
A teacher, a banker and you.
I was on my way back from Miami,
Stopping at my usual haunts.
Caught your smile and told the bartender,
“Hey, give that girl whatever she wants.”
The crowd was starting to thin when the shrimpers came in.
“Let’s get this party underway.”
Though I was due on St. Simons that night,
You convinced me to stay. 

We drank gallons of honeydew daiquiris.
Your girlfriends took over the bar.
The shrimpers yelled out, “Play more Buffett”
To the man who was playing guitar.

And some divers on their way to Key Largo
Came in in search of women and beer.
Some guy kept buying rounds of tequila.
There were bodies all over the pier.

The party broke up around midnight.
We looked but your girlfriends were gone.
Found a beach and went skinny-dipping.
Woke up in the sand dunes at dawn.

We felt close for so brief an encounter,
But neither of us thought to ask why.
You said call me if you’re ever in Boston.
You kissed me and told me good-bye.

Then I watched you walk away in the sunrise,
And I headed back up the coast.
Take care my serendipitous lover.
I popped a beer and made you a toast.

I don’t know it might have been raining,
Or the sky it might have been blue.
Three girls on vacation from Boston:
A teacher, a banker and you.
A teacher, a banker and you.

THE ROAD
© 1997 by Jim Morris

In Cameron, Montana at the Blue Moon Saloon
High on a bar stool and singing my tunes
To six tired cow boys, a girl named Cheyenne,
Two dogs and a skunk-drunk old man.

Then I drove on to Whitehall where I played my guitar
To a crowd of drunk miners in an old cowboy bar.
As I packed up to leave, I happened to see
That photo that you sent to me.

CHORUS:
And you know that you’re driving me wild tonight
As I sit here alone in the warm fireside light.
You warned me the road would be lonely as hell.
I’ve learned that lesson so well.

A storm hit the pass; I was nearly snowbound,
A misty-eyed stranger to this frozen ground.
I can picture you sailing in a warm ocean breeze.
In Bozeman it’s sixteen degrees.

REPEAT CHORUS

Well, I’m seldom alone, but I’m seldom with friends.
Sometimes I say no, but sometimes I give in.
I don’t stay in touch quite as much as I should,
And I sure miss you more than I thought that I would.

REPEAT CHORUS

I drink the free whiskey, and I chase it with beer.
I’ve had pretty women with snow on their hair.
But the longer I’m gone, the stronger I find
You walking around in my mind.

REPEAT CHORUS

NEW ORLEANS
© 1997 by Jim Morris

New Orleans,
Oh, you’re standing there near old Jackson Square
Looking over at the lights of Algiers.
New Orleans,
There’s a boat at the dock, and it’s giving you some new ideas.

A man’s calling.
He’s the crust of the coast.
He’s drunker than most.
He reminds you that the world is so real.
But you won’t go home.
You’re still hanging on to ideals.

What’s it gonna get you boy,
Running ‘round the streets of this town?
The Quarter’s gonna fool ya.
The Uptown bars will fool ya.
It’s not hard to get your head turned around.

And the women in the fast lane-
They’ll take you to a party or two.
But they’re wicked and they’re lazy.
The pace will drive you crazy.
There must be some place better for you.

New Orleans,
Oh, you’re standing there near old Jackson Square,
Looking over at the lights of Algiers.
New Orleans,
There’s a boat at the dock, and it’s giving you some new ideas.

A lady’s calling.
Oh, she’ll be your friend,
If you’ve got money to spend.
What you don’t give her she’ll probably steal.
But you won’t go home
Cause you’re still hanging on to ideals.

This city’s bound to trick you, boy.
It’s not that little town you came from.
It’s filled with misdemeanors, cons and in-betweeners,
And everything you’ll never become.

New Orleans,
Oh, you’re standing there near old Jackson Square,
Looking over at the lights of Algiers.
New Orleans,
There’s a boat at the dock, and it’s giving you some new ideas.

A man’s calling.
He’s the crust of the coast.
He’s drunker than most.
He reminds you that the world is so real.
But you won’t go home; You’re still hanging on to ideals.
No, you won’t go home; You’re still hanging on to your ideals.

SHE SAILED AWAY
© 1997 by Jim Morris

Quart of rum
Say, ain’t life grand.
Lying in a hammock with my head in my hands.
Clear blue sea, cloudproof sky.
Taking a pause, life sliding by.
Till friends come by with news.
They say it ain’t good.
You’ve missed the boat again.
Yeah, we thought you would.
Cause that girl that you’ve been dabbling in just left town.
Looks like she’s gone for good.

CHORUS:
She sailed away.
She took up with a sailor.
She’s gone they say,
Headed for the islands.
She’s gone away.
I always thought I’d see her,
But she just sailed away.

Quart of rum
Say, ain’t life grand.
Lying on the deck of a catamaran.
Took a beatin’ out on the wire
Flying a hull with my head on fire.
I heard she compared my life 
To a piece of driftin’ wood.
Said if you think that’s what life’s about
Then you misunderstood.
This ain’t no game, son, it’s life.
You’ve got to be in it, boy, or it’s no good.

REPEAT CHORUS

DISTANCE
© 1997 by Jim Morris

I can’t hold you any longer.
I’ve got to catch my plane.
Feeling like I do right now
I may never leave again.
So little time together,
You know I’d love to stay.
Tomorrow when I wake up
You’ll be a thousand miles away.

Turn around and close your eyes.
We mustn’t linger on.
By the time you open them,
I promise I’ll be gone.
I can’t take this any longer
Without lying to myself.
How long before this distance
Makes me fall for someone else.

All those late-night conversations
When you’re crying on the phone,
Or the morning when you call me
Just to see if I’m alone.
I too old for this confusion;
I feel like a damned cliché.
Tomorrow when I wake up
You’ll be a thousand miles away.

Turn around and close your eyes.
We mustn’t linger on.
By the time you open them,
I promise I’ll be gone.
No, I can’t take this any longer.
I’m just lying to myself.
How long before this distance
Makes me fall for someone else.
How long before this distance
Makes me fall for someone else.

I can’t hold you any longer.

SOUTHWARD
© 1997 by Jim Morris

I loaded up my jeep, stashed the top in my garage,
Changed into my tropical attire.
It was chilly through Virginia, but I hit the Outer Banks
And my attitude was toasty as a fire.
Made Ocracoke by sunset then I drank the night away.
Fell asleep to the grumbles of a squall.
Took the Cedar Island ferry on a morning bright and clean.
What’s behind me never crossed my mind at all.

Oh, the Carolina coastline is all flowers in the spring,
The dogwoods and azaleas on parade.
Live oaks hug the highway through the cool blackwater swamps.
I’m riding beneath a canopy of shade.

An old barn gives me shelter from a fierce Low-Country storm,
See Rock City painted on the roof.
I’ve got Charleston in my rearview and Savannah in my sights.
You’ll find me down on River Street tonight.

CHORUS:
Cause I’m headed Southward
To catch the springtime show.
Just going nowhere
As fast as I can go.
Nostalgia greets me
With every passing scene.
I’m driving down that coast road headed south.
Drunk upon that sea breeze in my mouth.

It’s the Golden Isles of Georgia, and I feel like I’m at home-
Safe refuse from those winters cold and harsh.
So many pleasant memories meander through my mind
Like the tidal creeks just winding through the marsh.
Then it’s on to Fernandina for a round of pirate’s punch.
Oh, the Palace is such a fine saloon.
Then I cross the Bridge of Lions and I see the Conch House Lounge.
No better place to spend the afternoon.

REPEAT CHORUS

The Gold Coast zooms right by me, and it’s all downhill from here.
I kick back as I cruise down A-1-A.
Then I hear Key West calling in a voice so loud and clear.
It’s the last resort, and I’m headed all the way.
I can see those smilin’ islands just shining in the sun,
Matecumbe, Big Pine, and Ramrod Keys.
I make a call to Pennsylvania from Alabama Jacks.
I’ve come this far; hell, I ain’t going back.

REPEAT CHORUS TWICE

A SLICE OF THE ISLAND LIFE
© 1997 by Jim Morris 

Janie wasn’t walking;
She was too busy talking,
Telling everybody the news.
Making the rounds
Cause she just got back in town
From a seven-day Caribbean cruise.
Where she was jostled, mocked and robbed
By some Puerto Rican slob.
Entertained him for an hour or two.
Took a roll in the sand
With the steel drum band.
Did a number on a few of the crew.

Now Mikey on his bikey
Wove his way through the crowd
On the way to hear the Wash Board Band.
Hit a fat guy from Toledo
Who barely fit into his Speedo.
He was lying sprawled out in the sand.
Then those Greenpeace boys,
In town making noise,
Tried to avoid the tragedy.
When they mistook him for a whale,
Grabbed that sucker by the tail,
And through ol’ Buddha Belly in the sea.

CHORUS:
It’s just a slice of the island.
Oh baby, a slice of the island life.
Sometimes it gets bizarre.
It’s like living in a jar.
It’s like walking on the edge of a knife.
It’s a slice of the island.
Oh baby, a slice of the island life.
There’s a rumor going ‘round.
The Fish Head man’s in town.
You’d better lock up your daughter and your wife.

The policeman took the call.
It sounded like a brawl.
The old lady had gotten such a scare.
There’s a crowd of crazy people
Running through the streets
Throwing a rubber chicken in the air.
The riot squad moved in
Then they called for extra men
When the crowd refused to leave the road.
They said there’s nothing you can do.
This thing is bigger than you.
Learn any more and your head just might explode.

REPEAT CHORUS

THIS OLD ISLAND
© 1997 by Jim Morris

Heard an old man by the pier
Ask where’s the time all gone.
It’s been almost fifty years,
My this place has grown.
I used to come here on the ferry
Before they built that big hotel.
This old island feels the same.
This old island’s aging well.

The lure of treasure ships
And trunks of gold doubloons.
What’s buried in your beach
Or sunk in your lagoons?
The pirates came to plunder
As pirates always will.
All the buildings make me wonder,
Are there not pirates living still?

Oh the pleasure this old island brings,
Those sunset walks, old summer flings.
Luring fools with romantic dreams
And old vagabonds like me.

When the women treat me cold,
They’ve all run out of smiles.
And I get drunk in every bar
Clear across the Golden Isles.
When I’ve tried to run away
Every time I’ve felt alone.
This old island made me stay.
This old island feels like home.
When I’ve tried to run away
Every time I felt alone.
This old Island made me stay.
This old island feels like home.

BOCANUTS
© 1997 by Jim Morris

The walls are beginning to move,
But I don’t think that I ever will.
Firmly attached to a barstool,
Down at the South Beach Bar and Grill.
They’re screaming “last call,”
But we’re still having a ball.
The barmaid is locking the doors.
Frank’s having drinks with some tourists,
Telling lies about how often he scores.

Sometimes you need to be tough.
Sometimes you need to beware.
I’ve lived in the real world enough.
We’re all here because we ain’t all there.
And the barmaid is ready to deal.
She’s got those lemons and limes and coconuts.
This barstool just won’t let me go,
And I’m surrounded by all of these Bocanuts.

Now Billy and Dan and some crazy old man,
I can’t believe I ever listened to them.
Surrounded by nine empty six packs,
On the beach at 4 A.M.
Somehow I’ve got to get home.
Thank heaven I didn’t get far.
Discovered by two frantic joggers,
Passed out in the hood of my car.

If you’re stupid, then you need to be tough.
If you’re drinking then you need to beware.
I’ve lived in the real world enough.
We’re all here because we ain’t all there.
And the barmaid is ready to deal.
She’s got those lemons and limes and coconuts.
This barstool just won’t let me go,
And I’m surrounded by all of these Bocanuts.

Yeah, sometimes you need to be tough.
And sometimes you need to beware.
I’ve lived in the real world enough.
We’re all here because we ain’t all there.
And the barmaid is ready to deal.
She’s got those lemons and limes and coconuts.
This barstool just won’t let me go.
And I’m surrounded by all of these Bocanuts.
Up to my ears in these Bocanuts.
Held hostage by all of these Bocanuts.

A BEER AWAY FROM LEAVING
© 1997 by Jim Morris

CHORUS:
I’m a beer away from leaving,
A tear away from crying.
I’m leaving you forever for the last time again.
I’ve finally gotten wise
To all those things you’ve been denying.
I’m leaving you forever till I come back again.

I’ve had two six-packs of courage;
I’m close to walking out the door.
I found some stranger’s underwear
On our bedroom floor.
I’m thinking island songs and girls in thongs
With billfish close to shore.
I’ve got a handle on my options
Like I’ve never had before.

REPEAT CHORUS

And my heart says man don’t be a fool;
You’d better stay at home.
But my head says you’ll never know when
Another chance like this might come along.
And this new life sounds so swell.
I think I’ll say the big “farewell.”
I need booze.
I need some women.
I need a chance to raise some hell.

REPEAT CHORUS

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN THAT WAY
© 1997 by Jim Morris

Sun comes up, drinks go down.
Here I go again.
Double shot for how it is,
And one for might have been.
Good morning bartender,
That’s the way I start my day.
On time for the early seating,
I’m not giving up; I’m only retreating.
But nothing’s changed,
It’s always been that way.

Morning always finds me here,
Alone in this café.
Staring at the sunrise
Painted on the bay.
I really love the early morning
Just wish it came later in the day.
But nothing comes easy,
And I’m living so freely.
Oh, but nothing’s changed,
It’s always been that way.

Lying in the gutter, but looking at the stars.
That old playwright must have wrote those words for me.
Trying to recover by hanging out in bars.
I know I’m getting better; I know I’m getting free.

My best friend’s a glass of whiskey,
And he’s got me feeling strong.
And feelings don’t come easy
When you’ve felt this way so long.
And I’ll worry about tomorrow
When I make it through today.
Seeing so clearly that I love you dearly.
Oh, but nothing’s changed,
It’s always been that way.

Lying in the gutter, but looking at the stars.
That old playwright must have wrote those words for me.
Trying to recover and hanging out in bars.
I know I’m getting better; I know I’m getting free.

Oh the sun comes up and those drinks go down.
Everyday is the same.
And nothing gets me started
Like the mention of a name.
Good night bartender,
That’s the way I end my day.
Seeing so clearly that I love you dearly.
Oh, but nothing’s changed,
It’s always been that way.

I LIVE IN MY CAR AT THE DON CESAR
© 1997 by Jim Morris

I live in my car at the Don Cesar,
And I think I’ll stay the rest of my days.
Security’s lenient.
The beach is convenient.
Well, that’s where the big money stays.

I never have a problem with riff-raff.
They attract such a swank clientele.
Elegant folks with distinction and money-
The atmosphere suits me quite well.

The housekeeping folks bring me towels and soap,
But I don’t make many demands.
I don’t need very much, and I don’t want to go broke.
I just want a sunny spot to work on my tan.

So I live in my car at the Don Cesar,
And I think I’ll stay the rest of my days.
Security’s lenient.
The beach is convenient.
That’s where the big money stays.

I needed a place that would suit me.
I never really meant to trespass.
Since everybody’s got to be somewhere,
I just chose a place with some class.

These fancy hotels can be expensive as hell,
But I’ve got better plans with my cash.
I don’t really need any mints on my pillow.
I’ve got a pound of M & M’s on my dash.

Cause I live in my car at the Don Cesar,
And I just may stay the rest of my days.
Security’s lenient.
The beach is convenient.
Well, that’s where the big money stays.

Now I’ve got my eye on this redheaded barmaid.
I hear that she thinks I’m real sweet.
Perhaps I’ll invite her to tailgate for cocktails,
And maybe even spend the night on my backseat.

Cause I live in my car at the Don Cesar,
And I just may stay the rest of my days.
Security’s lenient.
The beach is convenient.
That’s where the big money stays.

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