i’m flying out on sunday on a big ol’ aeroplane.
going to an island, but i can’t recall it’s name.
they tell me that it’s different there, the natives are so nice.
some call it their home, but me, i call it paradise.
so many months of working, and i have to get away.
to end up on this island, it’s crazy in a way.
we got roosters talking in the morn’, frogs chirp hard at night,
and it lasts long into the morning light.
pastel colored houses, lined up on the seash-r-.
so many pirate caverns, too many to explore.
the gr-ss is always green, and the sun it always shines,
ask anyone, it’s truly one of a kind.
it’s the perfect escape, to a distant type of world.
we’ll sail beyond the sunset, like a painting or a mural.
pink sand, warm sunlight, and clear blue skies await.
if you get the chance to go, don’t dare hesitate.
it’s a place where the water’s aqua blue, and the sky is pink at night.
sit your -ss in the sand, and everything’s all right.