Nibblin' on sponge cake, watchin' the sun bake
All of those tourists covered with oil,
Strummin' my six-string on my front porch swing?
Smell those shrimp, they're beginning to boil.
Wasted away again in Margaritaville,
Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt.
Some people claim that there's a woman to blame
But I know it's nobody's fault.
I don't know the reason I stayed here all season,
Nothin' to show but this brand new tatoo,
But it's a real beautie, a Mexican cutie.
But how it got here I haven't a clue.
(CHORUS)
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 blender, and soon it will render
That frozen concoction that helps me hang on.
(CHORUS)
Some people say that there's a woman to blame
But I know it's my own damn fault.