|
fountains and florescent lights |
|
the season has come |
|
the snowbirds are crowding the nights. |
|
the townies are tired of their beaches and bars |
|
being packed so tight |
|
the bridges and traffic and in this selecting their flight. |
|
and on these boats |
|
ride the hopes of... |
|
working class boys, dreaming of girls from faraway points |
|
and better things |
|
like winter flings |
|
and longing after spring has sprung |
|
and they fly north when winter's done |
|
and we get burned in summer's sun |
|
fountains and florescent lights |
|
the season has come |
|
the snowbirds are crowding the nights. |
|
townies and tourists find unlikely love at first sight |
|
and swear that they're never leaving, |
|
and that is their plight |
|
and on these boats |
|
ride the hopes of... |
|
working class boys, dreaming of girls from faraway points |
|
and better things |
|
like winter flings |
|
and longing after spring has sprung |
|
they fly north when winter's done |
|
and we get burned in summer's sun |
|
this winter is lasting forever |
|
at least for tonight |
|
and i know that you're never leaving |
|
until your flight takes you off |
|
and out of my arms |
|
and into the air |
|
so far from your charms |
|
that I cannot bear |
|
another year |
|
in this long forgotten beach town we once shared |
|
and this winter is lasting forever |
|
at least for tonight |
|
and i know that you're never leaving, |
|
never leaving me again |
|
not again |
