The south coast of Texas is a thin slice of life
It's salty and hard, it is stern as a knife
Where the wind is for blowin' up, hurricanes for showin'
The snakes how to swim and the trees how to lean
And the shrimpers and their ladies are out in the beer joints
Drinkin' 'em down 'fore they sail with the dawn
They're bound for the Mexican Bay of Campeche
And the deck hands are singin', "Adios Jole Blon"
♪
In the cars of my youth, how I tore through those sand dunes
Cut up my tires on them oyster shell roads
But nothin' is forever, say the old men in the shipyards
Turnin' trees into shrimp boats, hell, I guess they ought to know
And the shrimpers and their ladies are out in the beer joints
Drinkin' 'em down 'fore they sail with the dawn
They're bound for the Mexican Bay of Campeche
And the deck hands are singin', "Adios Jole Blon"
♪
There's snowbirds in search of that sunshine and night life
And fond of greasin' palms down the beach as they're goin'
This livin' on the edge of the waters of the world
Demands the dignity of whooping cranes and the likes of Gilbert Roland
And the shrimpers and their ladies are out in the beer joints
Drinkin' 'em down 'fore they sail with the dawn
They're bound for the Mexican Bay of Campeche
And the deck hands are singin', "Adios Jole Blon"
Oh, the shrimpers and their ladies are out in the beer joints
Drinkin' 'em down 'fore they sail with the dawn
They're bound for the Mexican Bay of Campeche
And the deck hands are singin', "Adios Jole Blon"
And the deck hands are singin', "Adios Jole Blon"
♪
That's very cool, Susan
Thank you