Digital Cowboy

Lisa seems to think she’s immune from my cantankerousness. She suggested Jimmy Buffett as a topic. Just a warning to the rest of you, some of the language what follows below will be offensive to many and “NSFW” if you work for prudes. I don’t care anymore.

I only came close to being married twice. The second relationship resulted in marriage, my lovely daughters and my current problems. The first ended at a Parrot Head Party. I had been shopping for engagement rings and thinking about proposing to her at the Buffett concert. We partied all day with the Parrot Heads and had a good time, mostly. At the very end, we got in a fight and broke up just before the concert started. We both “attended” the actual concert alone and pissed off. It was a long drive home and I was so fed up with her by the end of the show that she almost didn’t get a ride home from me. At the time, I thought it was an awfully expensive breakup. If I’d only known then how much more expensive they could get….

With that and Lisa in mind, I give you the following lyrics:

“(spoken intro)
This song’s for all the people that’s, uh, been reviewin’ our records in different magazines and things and mentioning the fact that, we sound a lot like Jimmy Buffett because we live in Key West and we use congo drums in our songs.

And, uh, to all those people that are under the misconception that Mr. Buffett lives in Key West, we’d like to say that there is a lot of things in Key West. As a matter of fact:

There’s sailboats and conch shells and palm trees galore,
But Jimmy Buffett doesn’t live in Key West, anymore.

Sister Sparechange has a bumper sticker on her door.
Says, “Jimmy Buffett doesn’t live in Key West, anymore.”

Hey, smugglers leave those Buffett songs.
Snitching on the sly.
Bringin’ heat where it’s already too damn hot to die.

Son of a son of a son of a bitch,
What’s all that bullshit for?
Jimmy Buffett – he don’t live in Key West, anymore.

Sailing to the Caribbean,
Jimmy might well be.
Picture’s up in ‘Rolling Stone’
For all the world to see.

The rich keep gettin’ richer
The poor, they just stay poor.
And Jimmy Buffett doesn’t live in Key West, anymore.

Now Jimmy’s moved to Malibu
With all those other stars.
He’s not down Duval street
Hangin’ out in bars.

All them goddamn tourists
Have got’ to be a bore.
Jimmy Buffett doesn’t live
in Key West anymore.

So don’t tell me I sound like Jimmy Buffett
Just because I got that island beat.
Jimmy might’ve grown up on the ocean.
Me? I’ve kinda grown up on the street.

Music’s just a way of life and
Me, I’m livin’ free.
So don’t lay all that
Key West, Jimmy Buffett shit on me.

Now ‘Diver’s Do It Deeper’
Must have really made them mad.
Some of them reviewers said
It really sounded bad.

Well, they liked ‘Margaritaville.’
And me, I liked it, too.
Someday, Jimmy, why don’t we
Just both get drunk and screw?

Call all them creepy mother fuckers
that think music is a whore,
and tell ‘em that ya just don’t live
In Key West, anymore.