Cooler is chiming with Corona bottles,
as I pull back on the speeding boat's throttle.
sliding up on to the white beach sand,
the party will be here, on this island.

Everything's unloaded, and BBQ's lit,
pork **** and pineapple, spin on the spit,
seasoned achiote paste, garlic, and lime,
corn tortillas will be warm, and just in time.

Generator running, as the blender spins,
margaritas slushy, icy liquid sin.
limes are ready, cut and in a bowl,
looks like we are about ready to roll.

Beach volleyball set, net up and marked,
other boats arriving, anchored or parked.
the smell of sunscreen, coconut flavored,
tropical breeze is something to savor.

Bob Marley sings out the "Three Little Birds",
from out of the speakers, I mouth the words.
bikini clad women dance on the beach,
all of the world's problems seem out of reach.

Green water and white foam as I look out,
jet skis go by with a rooster tail spout.
the sky is blue, with a few fluffy clouds,
the sun, a golden ball, shining down proud.

A football is tossed, by guys covered with sweat
some girls at the bar, with their t-shirts wet.
whooping and hollering, the party heats up.
I just keep on, filling up their cups.