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'
Snakes how to swim and 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 Campeche
C G C
And the deck hands are singin' "Adios, Jole Blon"
There's snow birds in search of that sunshine and nightlife
Fond of greasin' palms down the beach as they're goin'
Ah, this livin' on the edge of the waters of the world
The dignity of whoopin' cranes and the likes of Gilbert
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' lasts forever say the old men in the shipyards
Turnin' trees into shrimp boats; hell, I guess they oughta