Oh, the south coast of Texas, that's 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 for they sail with the dawn
They're bound for the Mexican Bay of Campche
And the deck hands are singin', "Adios, Jole Blon"
Now there's snowbirds in search of that sunshine and night life
And fond of greasin' palms down the beach as they're goin'
Now 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 for they sail with the dawn
They're bound for the Mexican Bay of Campche
And the deck hands are singin', "Adios, Jole Blon"
♪
In the cars of my youth how I tore through those sand dunes
And 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 for they sail with the dawn
They're bound for the Mexican Bay of Campche
And the deck hands are singin', "Adios, Jole Blon"
And the shrimpers and their ladies are out in the beer joints
Drinkin' 'em down for they sail with the dawn
They're bound for the Mexican Bay of Campche
And the deck hands are singin', "Adios, Jole Blon"
Oh, the deck hands are singin', "Adios, Jole Blon"