I Call It Paradise by Tiffany Hulse
I’m flying out on Sunday on a big ol’ aeroplane.
Going to an island, but I can’t recall it's name.
They tell me that it’s different there, the natives are so nice.
Some call it their home, but me, I call it paradise.
So many months of working, and I have to get away.
To end up on this island, it’s crazy in a way.
We got roosters talking in the morn’, Frogs chirp hard at night,
And it lasts long into the morning light.
Pastel colored houses, lined up on the seashore.
So many pirate caverns, too many to explore.
The grass is always green, and the sun it always shines,
Ask anyone, it’s truly one of a kind.
It’s the perfect escape, to a distant type of world.
We’ll sail beyond the sunset, like a painting or a mural.
Pink sand, warm sunlight, and clear blue skies await.
If you get the chance to go, don’t dare hesitate.
It’s a place where the water’s aqua blue, and the sky is pink at night.
Sit your ass in the sand, and everything’s all right.