Sailed out of Biscayne Bay. Headed for the island. No map, no plans, no place to be. One broken heart to fix. So many memories. One photograph of you and me.
She was a dancer at the Club Zydeco Moon. An all night social house and all day saloon. She had the face and body, the devil's own desire. Her lips were full and sugar sweet as blackberry wine.
If it weren't for kids have you ever thought. There wouldn't be no Santa Claus. Or look what the stork just brought. Thank God for kids.. . And we'd all live in a quiet house.