It was the day Alex knocked on my door
and I was still in the shower.
I was fed up with the day
Fed up with the way
I had to pretend to like this place.
Where the beach was barricaded
with mile-high condos
For private guests with codes and passes.
The string of public sidewalk
took a fat fee to park.
Like nature gripped by capitalism.
But an overlooked turn-off
just before leaving the island
down a dark winding road
led to a trailer park emptied into one tiny bar
And a pajama party in the name of Spam?
made into cakes, dips, and little models of the town.
We hid in my car and pushed the cork through the wine
And jammed to a band going back in time
All ages moving and grooving
I knew you would have loved it
And you kept the night going
with the pleasantly unexpected.
