I have this dream to own a 45 foot sailboat and leaving from Mallory Square, the Southernmost tip of the United States, and heading down to the islands. I call it my “Jimmy Buffett Mecca”.
I was thinking about that one day and thought, “I’m going to write an island song.” And while I favor myself as the protagonist in this song, I don’t smoke dope, have bonds to turn into cash, or drink rum. But I like my character and I even like my femme fatale, Belize – whose swaying to the music lets you know everything you need to know.
The lyrics are below the video – and on the video as well. Enjoy!
Copyright © 2010 – Matthew Moran
I’ve got this old duffle bag full of Colombian stash
Made a trip to the bank, turned my bonds into cash
Cuz I got me this Captain and he got him a boat
Gonna make my escape and keep my dreams afloat, keep my dreams afloat
Cuz this man’s gotta be what this man’s always been
I’m a dreamer of dreams, I’m a lover, a friend
And I make no excuses, so excuse me my faults
It’s safer asking forgiveness than permission I’m told, then permission I’m told
Am I losing ground or winning it back
Have I lost my way or am I on the right track
I’ve taken some falls. Imagine that
Been handed some bruises now I’m giving them back (givin’ ’em back)
Well the bartender told me her name was Belize
The way she swayed to the music it was easy to see
That she was promise and danger. She’s salvation and sin.
She’s a whirlpools pull and I was falling right in, I was falling right in
I’d love to tell you about passion. I’d love to tell you about love
But past our 2nd dance you know I don’t recall much
When those 3 local boys darkened the door to this bar
You know I should have stopped dancing, it would have been the wise call, would have been the wise call
I woke up on the beach to the sounds of the sea
It seems Belize and the boys they got the better of me
My head it aches from the rum, my body aches from the fight
And from the what I can’t recall it was one hell of a night, it was one hell of a night
Now my pockets are empty, my stash blown to the wind
and like a sail through the storm my dreams are tattered and thin
but I know me a captain and he’s in need of a crew
So when you make your escape I might be shuttling you, I might be shuttling you.