Daytona Sand

Buddy, we got major blues Another suitcase in your hand I hope you brought your walking shoes 'Cause it's quite a-ways from what I understand So, rack 'em up, big blonde I think I could have been your man We watch the surfers as they whip on the strand Ah, Daytona sand Long hair, slow eyes, I like your style We both ain't got a job I haven't seen my band in a while At least nothing seems to last that long So hit the road, big blonde Take me home to Mississippi It's not that I don't care, it's just hard to make a plan But ah, Daytona sand I'm not mad, for what it's worth You always take the dare, that's what I learned I'm getting tired of this earth But they say some stones are better left unturned So what you say, big blonde? Is that another whispered plan? I've been around long enough to know you can't trust a man But ah, Daytona sand M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I