Surfer's Grave

You're done with work and you're driving home in your GMC half ton

You realize the wind's off shore and there's a couple hours left of sun

You haven't surfed 'cause you've been working so much and the idea sounds like fun

So you stop at the house and you pick up your ten-foot rhino chasing gun

You've got no friends to surf with 'cause they're all strung out or in the joint

You're looking for thrills and you know where to find them so you drive out to the point

You can't believe your eyes-n

Twenty-foot waves are stacked to the horizon

Ride a wave

To a surfer's grave

Twenty locals stand guard at the trail head, smiling and smoking a spliff

You know that if you paddle out they're liable to roll your truck off a cliff

Your windshield's smashed and your tires are slashed

before you even make it down the trail

The vibes are thick, but so are the lines and it still beats the county jail

Rocks are raining down all around as you put your wetsuit on

The aloha spirit was once the norm, but at the bay those days are long gone

It's too big to be fun

Put down the gun

Ride a wave

To a surfer's grave

The reef is boiling and the tubes are spitting and you feel the surge of the tide

Ten foot thick lips throw out so far that Mack trucks can find a place to hide

You see a fifty-foot wave and it's calling your name so you stand up and take the drop

But you pearl and and get sucked up over the falls with a mountain of water on top

A friendly man named Diver Dan emerges from the hull of a sunken freighter

The rusted sign above his cave spells out S.S. Dominator

How does it feel

Livin' like a moray eel?

Oooops you're out of breath

Now it's time for death