The Rum Diary

Marc Douglas Berardo

This island is a steaming trap

Full of palms and poets and thieves

This bar is full of rum soaked hacks clinging on to what is left of what they believe

Me, I was another runaway

I just left one day to right it all down

But my plans got stuck in the sand and my dreams never got off the ground



Chorus

In the search for the great one, it is I who has not found

A way to capture the fury and the sound

Shadowboxing the muse

Here among the burned out and used

At the end of a very short fuse

While the time slips away



Drifting on the breeze they got the Steely Dan and the ceiling fan is turning in time

And whenever I hear that song

I scheme about stealing the best lines

But when this glow fades away, I'm will sleep under mosquito net

And as far as the best laid plans

I'm bound to forget, I always bound to forget that



Chorus

In the search for the great one, it is I who has not found

A way to capture the fury and the sound

Shadowboxing the muse

Here among these burned out and used

At the end of a very short fuse

While the time slips away

While the time just slips away