West of the Bay

There’s a Wall-greens on every corner,

A new dispensary every other day,

Stores for miles, both sides of the streets,

Such is life, just West of Tampa Bay.

if you had a dollar for each of our dollar stores,

You could play lotto at every 7-Eleven,

But if you take Route 60 either east or west,

You can’t help but ending up in heaven.

Though It’s not all pools and beaches,

And might not be all that they say,

It sure beats the hell out of the icy north,

And once you get down here, you know yer gonna stay.

Just gotta flip a coin and ask yourself,

Do I wanna shovel snow or run for cover,

Because the white gets deeper every year,

But the hurricanes are a mutha!

Snow could collapse your roof, and land on your head,

Or winds at a hundred, could blow me from my bed,

But the reason Florida isn’t home,

until the young get old,

Is cause though the canes might blow,

It beats the hell out of the cold.

(Yeah, those hurricanes, they sure do blow,

But It still beats the hell out of the cold.)