it’s a grand bahama scheme.
got my -ss in the sand, with a cold one in hand,
just livin’ my dream.
‘cause it’s a grand bahama scheme.
so it started to rain, as i exit the plane,
and i leave with my cargo in hand.
guitar by my side, i’ve decided to hide,
and join in a tropical band.
so won’t you take my advice, i won’t tell you this twice,
jimmy has the right idea.
going down to the islands, gonna fish those pilings,
i’ll buy you a couple of beers.
the boss tries to call, i do nothing at all,
as i lay in my hammock all day.
i’m not going back, that old life was an act,
for the rest of my life i will stay.