The Village Wordsmithy

Jimmy Buffett Fesses Up!!

I got rich writing about my bad habits
indulged in my wild Caribbean days
Taking body shots off of well-endowed strippers
And snorting cocaine off a supermodel’s legs

But there was a good reason for my escape into dreams,
by using rum, happy pills, and pot
Because if you choose a life of sobriety
You’ll see that Paradise, this place is not!

What jerk calls a place Paradise,
where capital crime is always on the rise?
where biting insects grow to an incredible size?
It’s not my idea of Paradise

I made it all sound so romantic,
Singing’ ’bout smugglers, pretty ladies, and pirates back then
But they’re crooks and criminals, schemers and con men.
Why do you think I wised up, and moved to Aspen!

Why visit more than one island?
every one is just more of the same
beggars, crazy cabbies, and cheap crap made…

View original post 71 more words

2 responses to this post.

  1. Need to re-listen to Marerita-ville; your ‘re-dos often echo the source in interesting ways.
    I actually enjoyed my only trip to the Keys. ‘Heaven in a grain of sand’… but a long tired drive back home.


    • The melody for this piece is Cheeseburger in Paradise.
      The Keys are a great place to visit, Mom and Dad lived on Summerland Key. But, to people with a tendency to abuse substances, the Keys are a siren’s call. After Mom died, Dad was doing blow with David Allan Coe, whose father was dad’s drinking buddy. Great stories are to be had in the Keys, but most are told in the third person.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: