|
|
1973 |
1. | |
2. | |
3. | |
4. | |
5. | |
6. | |
7. | |
8. | |
9. | |
10. | |
11. | |
|
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett
I pulled into the regular pump
I was feelin' quite at ease
I rolled down my window and told the man, "Fifty cents worth please"
Then out jumped my partner with his trusty pellet gun
He said, "Boy this is a holdup, keep 'a pumpin' and don't run"
Chorus:
And now I wish I was somewhere other than here
Down in some honky tonk, sippin' on a beer
Yes I wish I was somewhere other than here
Because that great fillin' station holdup
Cost me two good years
We got fifteen dollars and a can of STP
A big ol' jar of cashew nuts and a Japanese TV
Feelin' we had pulled the biggest heist of our career
We're wanted men, we'll strike again
But first let's have a beer
Chorus:
And now I wish I was somewhere other than here
Down in some honky tonk, sippin' on a beer
Yes I wish I was somewhere other than here
Because that great fillin' station holdup
Cost me two good years
(guitar instrumental)
We were sittin' in the Krystal
About as drunk as we could be
In walks the deputy sheriff
And he's holdin' our TV
Roughed us then he cuffed us
And he took us off to jail
No pictures on a poster, no reward and no bail
Chorus:
And now I wish I was somewhere other than here
Down in some honky tonk, sippin' on a beer
Yes I wish I was somewhere other than here
'Cause that great fillin' station holdup
Cost me two good years
Coda:
Yes that great fillin' station holdup
It cost me two good years
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett, Jerry Jeff Walker
She's a railroad lady
Just a little bit shady
Spendin' her days on the trains
She's a semi-good looker
But the fast rails they took 'er
Now she's tryin', just tryin' to get home again
South Station in Boston to the freightyards of Austin
From the Florida sunshine to the New Orleans rain
Now that the railpacks
Has taken the best tracks
She's tryin', just tryin' to get home again
She's a railroad lady
Just a little bit shady
Spendin' her life on a train
Once a pullman car traveller
Now the brakeman won't have 'er
She's tryin', just tryin' to get home again
Once a high ballin' loner he thought he could own 'er
Bought her a fur and a big diamond ring
She hocked 'em for cold cash
Left town on the Wabash
Never thinkin', never thinkin' of home way back then
But the rails are now rusty
The dinin' car's dusty
Gold plated watches have taken their toll
Yeah the railroads are dyin'
And the lady she's cryin'
On a bus to Kentucky and home that's her goal
She's a railroad lady
Just a little bit shady
Spendin' her life on a train
She's a semi-good looker
But the fast rails they took 'er
Now she's tryin', just tryin' to get home again
Coda:
Yes on a bus to Kentucky and home once again
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett
He went to Paris lookin' for answers
To questions that bothered him so
He was impressive, young and aggressive
Savin' the world on his own
But the warm summer breezes
The French wines and cheeses
Put his ambition at bay
The summers and winters
Scattered like splinters
And four or five years slipped away
Then he went to England, played the piano
And married an actress named Kim
They had a fine life, she was a good wife
And bore him a young son named Jim
And all of the answers and all of the questions
Locked in his attic one day
'Cause he liked the quiet clean country livin'
And twenty more years slipped away
Well the war took his baby, the bombs killed his lady
And left him with only one eye
His body was battered, his whole world was shattered
And all he could do was just cry
While the tears were a-fallin' he was recallin'
Answers he never found
So he hopped on a freighter, skidded the ocean
And left England without a sound
Now he lives in the islands, fishes the pilin's
And drinks his Green Label each day
Writing his memoirs, losin' his hearin'
But he don't care what most people say
Through eighty-six years of perpetual motion
If he likes you he'll smile and he'll say
"Jimmy, some of it's magic, some of it's tragic
But I had a good life all the way"
Coda:
And he went to Paris lookin' for answers
To questions that bothered him so
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett
Grapefruit
A bathin' suit
Chew a little Juicy Fruit
Wash away the night
Drive in
You guzzle gin
Commit a little mortal sin
It's good for the soul
Bridge:
And oh it gets so damn lonely
When you're on a plane alone
And if I had the money, honey
I'd strap you in beside me
And never ever leave you
Leave you at home all alone and cryin'
Ten speed
No need
My pickup gets me where I please
Chuggin' down the street
But I'll be leavin'
In a little while
So close your eyes and I'll
I'll be back real soon
Spoken:
"Ah, take it Reefers"
"Ladies choice, Everybody dance"
"Here we go"
Bridge:
Yes and if I had that money, honey
I'd strap you in beside me (in your strapless)
And never ever leave you
Leave you at home all alone and cryin'
Grapefruit
A bathin' suit
You chew a little Juicy Fruit
Wash away the night
Yeah you chew a little Juicy Fruit
It's good for ya soul
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett, Tom Corcoran
Well now Billy Voltaire was a piano player up from Miami way
He used to play in the bars, he could sound like the stars
Ladies would pay and pay
One night he did wind up playin' in Havana town
Nobody knew, least Billy Voltaire that these were his final sounds
He met up with Meritta, a dancer in from the Coast
Half woman, half child, she drove him half wild
He loved that lady the most
One night he did find her in the arms of Shrimper Dan
So he pulled a knife, took poor Danny's life
And then he turned his own cold hand
Chorus:
And it's just a Cuban crime of passion
Messy and old fashioned
Yeah, that's what the papers did say
It's just a Cuban crime of passion
Anjejo and knives a slashin'
Yeah but that's what the people like to read about
Up in America, up in America
Well now they never found Meritta, some people say she got ill
Billy Voltaire had no one to claim him, he was buried on pauper's hill
And no one talks about 'em no more, it happened just a week ago
But people get by and people get high
In the tropics they come and they go
Chorus:
And it's just a Cuban crime of passion
Messy and old fashioned
Yeah, that's what the papers did say
It's just a Cuban crime of passion
Anjejo and knives a slashin'
But that's what the people like to read about
Up in America, up in America
. . .
|
|
By: Marvin Gardens
I really do appreciate the fact you're sittin' here
Your voice sounds so wonderful
But yer face don't look too clear
So bar maid bring a pitcher, another round o' brew
Honey, why don't we get drunk and screw
Chorus:
Why don't we get drunk and screw
I just bought a water bed, it's filled up for me and you
They say you are a snuff queen
Honey I don't think that's true
So, why don't we get drunk and screw
-- Spoken: "Pick it Coral Reefers, here we go..."
(swing instrumental)
Chorus:
Why don't we get drunk and screw
I just bought a waterbed it's filled up for me and you
They say you are a snuff queen
Honey I don't think that's true
So why don't we get drunk and screw
Yeah, now baby I say, (Lord!)
Why don't we get drunk and screw
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett
Lookin' back at my hard luck days
I really do have to laugh
Workin' in a dive for twenty six dollars
Spendin' it all on grass
We were hungry hard-luck heroes
Tryin' just to stay alive
We'd go down to the corner grocery
This is how we'd survive
Chorus:
Who's gonna steal the peanut butter
I'll get the can of sardines
Runnin' up and down the aisle of the Mini Mart
Stickin' food in our jeans
We never took more than we could eat
There was plenty left on the rack
We all swore if we ever got rich
We would pay the Mini Mart back
Yes sir! Yes sir!
We would pay the Mini Mart back
It was a two man operation
Had it all down on a note
Ricky would watch that big round mirror
And I'd fill up my coat
Then we'd head for the check-out aisle
With a lemon and a bottle of beer
Into the car, got to make it on home
Suppertime's getting near
Chorus:
So who's gonna steal the peanut butter
I'll get the can of sardines
Runnin' up and down the aisle of the Mini Mart
Stickin' food in our jeans
Never took more than we could eat
There was plenty left on the rack
We all swore if we ever got rich
We would pay the Mini Mart back
Yes sir! Yes sir!
We would pay the Mini Mart back
I guess every good picker has had some hard times
I sure had my share
It's really kinda funny to laugh at 'em now
But I don't want to go back there
So every now and then when I'm in the grocery
I'll take a little but not much
'Cause you never know when those hard times'll hitcha
And I don't want to lose my touch
Chorus:
So who's gonna steal the peanut butter
I'll get the can of sardines
Runnin' up and down the aisle of the Mini Mart
Stickin' food in our jeans
We never took more than we could eat
There was plenty left on the rack
We all swore if we ever got rich
We would pay the Mini Mart back
Yes sir! Yes sir!
We would pay the Mini Mart back
Yes sir, yes sir
We would pay the Mini Mart back
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett
Walkin' down new streets, music is loud
Neon signs bring in tumultuous crowds
But I'm just an old man, I'd probably get sore
'Cause they don't dance like Carmen no more
She and ol' Cougie, my what a pair
Jus' doin' the Rhumba as no one else dared
Slidin' and glidin' 'cross Hollywood floors
But they don't dance like Carmen no more
-- Spoken:
"Take it Marvin"
"Shk chk, shk chk, shk chk"
Well now she had a big hat, my it was high
Had bananas and mangos all piled to the sky
How she could balance it, I wouldn't dare
But they don't dance like Carmen nowhere
"Shk chk, shk chk, shk chk"
Ah but the lady's not with us, she died long ago
And they don't show her movies on late midnight shows
'Cause the kids would get restless, and the grown-ups would snore
'Cause they don't dance like Carmen no more
Well now she and old Cougie, my what a pair
Just doin' the Boogie as no one else dared
Slidin' and glidin' 'cross hardwood waxed floors
But they don't dance like Carmen no more
No more
No no no more
And I'm just an old man, I'd probably get sore
But they don't dance like Carmen no more
Nah they don't dance like Carmen no more
Coda:
Ten cents dance, I might take a chance
But they don't dance like Carmen no more
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett
The days drift by
They don't have names
None of the streets here look the same
And there're so many quiet places
And smilin' eyes match the smilin' faces
Chorus:
And I have found me a home
I have found me a home
You can have the rest of everything I own
'Cause I have found me a home
My ol' red bike
Gets me around
To the bars and the beaches of my town
There aren't many reasons I would leave
'Cause I have found me some peace
And the ladies aren't demandin' here
They'll never ask too much
When you're comin' off a cold love
That's sure a nice warm touch
Chorus:
Yes I have found me a home
I have found me a home
You can have the rest of everything I own
'Cause I have found me a home
And the days drift by
They don't have names
And none of the streets here look the same
There aren't many reasons I would leave
'Cause I have found me some peace
Yes I have found me a home
I have found me a home
You can have the rest of everything I own
'Cause I have found me a home
Yes I have found me a home
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett
When I pay my bills
Gonna leave these Tennessee hills
Take my lady to the sea
That's where we both come from
That's where we both belong
Think I'll go back to the Keys
Chorus:
'Cause I don't want the fame that brings confusion
Where people recognize you on a plane
All I want's the quiet and the comforts
That livin' with my lovely lady brings
Somehow we survived the double talk and jive
Things are looking better all the time
I owe her all I can 'cause she made me understand
The simple way that we should live our lives
Chorus:
And I don't want the fame that brings confusion
Where people recognize you on a plane
All I want's the quiet and the comforts
That livin' with my lovely lady brings
Let me tell you now she can eat her own weight up in crab meat
And there's plenty of that down there by the sea
Well we're sailin' in those warm December breezes
Sendin' picture postcards back to Tennessee
Chorus:
Yes and I don't want the fame that brings confusion
Where people recognize you on a plane
All I want's the quiet and the comforts
That livin' with my lovely lady brings
Yeah that livin' with my lovely lady brings
. . .
|
|
By: Jimmy Buffett
I once knew a poet
Who lived before his time
He and his dog Spooner
Would listen while he'd rhyme
Words to make ya happy
Words to make you cry
Then one day the poet suddenly did die
But he left behind a closet
Filled with verse and rhyme
And through some strange transaction
One was printed in the Times
And everybody's searchin'
For the king of undergound
Well they found him down in Florida
With a tombstone for a crown
Everybody knows a line
From his book that cost four ninety-nine
I wonder if he knows he's doin'
Quite this fine
'Cause his books are all best sellers
And his poems were turned to song
Had his brother on a talk show
Though they never got along
And now he's called immortal
Yes he's even taught in school
They say he used his talents
A most proficient tool
But he left all of his royalties
To Spooner his ol' hound
Growin' old on steak and bacon
In a doghouse ten feet 'round
And everybody wonders
Did he really lose his mind
No he was just a poet who lived before his time
He was just a poet who lived before his time
. . .
|
|