| We went to the beach
|
| Every year, the middle of June
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| We crammed into that Astro van
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| Tighter than a can of sardines
|
| And we went to the beach
|
| We fought in the back
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| And dad got mad
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| And mama rolled the windows down
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| «Y'all smell the salt of the beach?»
|
| Well, it was double beds
|
| With a kitchenette
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| Bedspreads of sea-foam green
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| It was sunburns and taking turns
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| On boogie boards we’d bring
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| Even if we spent every single cent to stay across the street
|
| We went to the beach
|
| We mowed a few yards
|
| I filled a coffee can with some Benjamins
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| Just a couple of friends
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| Just barely seventeen
|
| And we went to the beach
|
| And in the middle of March
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| We put real life starts and partied so hard
|
| We could barely remember a thing
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| It was PBRs and tiki bars
|
| Don’t take my fake I. D
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| It was cigarettes, girls we just met
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| And making out on lifeguard seats
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| And those polaroids of me and the boys is all the proof I need
|
| And we went to the beach
|
| Girl, don’t you hate to leave
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| It’s been one hell of a week
|
| It was a vow, to you too, «I do.»
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| Babe, can you believe?
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| It was brand new tans
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| Brown-golden bands
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| Of sand all in the sheets
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| If I know you and me, we only get one of these
|
| And we went to the beach
|
| We went to the beach
|
| We went to the beach
|
| We went to the beach |