We wake up in a blazing sea Of sheets so white and cool With the burden on our shoulders all but gone We make friends with the bartenders In the fake grass huts by the shore Full of hope and charity like glowing golden icons And we are as the angels in heaven Without family or friends Forget about those old churches And black and white movies We've got rum and coke and pay-per-view TV Forget about Bing and Frank and Nat And gaudy Christmas trees Every day is a holiday if you want it to be Rip up the past like a band-aid See the new skin underneath Bacardi, your baby-soft skin And a view through to annihilation Bacardi, your baby-soft skin And a view clear through to annihilation Bacardi, your baby-soft skin And a view clear through to annihilation Bacardi, your baby-soft skin And a view clear through to annihilation