Nib-

blin'

on

sponge

cake,

wa-

tchin'

the

sun

bake;

All

of

those

tour-

ists

cov-

ered

with

oil.

Strum-

min'

my

six

string

on

my

front

porch

swing.

Smell

those

shrimp

They're

be-

ginn-

in'

to

boil.

Was-

ted

a-

way

a-

gain

in

Mar-

ga-

ri-

ta-

ville,

Search-

in'

for

my

lost

sha-

ker

of

salt.

Some

peo-

ple

claim

that

there's

a

wo-

man

to

blame,

But

I

know

it's

no-

bo-

dy's

fault.

Don't

know

the

rea-

son,

I

stayed

here

all

sea-

son

With

noth-

ing

to

show

but

this

brand

new

ta-

ttoo.

But

it's

a

real

beau-

ty,

A

Mex-

i-

can

cu-

tie,

how

it

got

here

I

ha-

ven't

a

clue.

Wa-

sted

a-

way

a-

gain

in

Mar-

ga-

ri-

ta-

ville,

Sear-

chin'

for

my

lost

sha-

ker

of

salt.

Some

peo-

ple

claim

that

there's

a

wo-

man

to

blame,

Now

I

think,-

hell

it

could

be

my

fault.

I

blew

out

my

flip

flop,

Stepped

on

a

pop

top,

Cut

my

heel,

had

to

cruise

on

back

home.

But

there's

booze

in

the

ble-

nder,

And

soon

it

will

ren-

der

That

fro-

zen

con-

coc-

tion

that

helps

me

hang

on.

Was-

ted

a-

way

a-

gain

in

Mar-

ga-

ri-

ta-

ville

Sear-

chin'

for

my

lost

sha-

ker

of

salt.

Some

peo-

ple

claim

that

there's

a

wo-

man

to

blame,

But

I

know,

it's

my

own

damn

fault.

Yes,

and

some

peo-

ple

claim

that

there's

a

wo-

man

to

blame

And

I

know

it's

my

own

damn

fault.