Mr. Sullivan

Mr. Sullivan flies a prop plane
He keeps it at the dock
Sometimes he'll make some money
Dropping tourists from rock to rock
At night he's at the bar
A margarita in each hand
More than once I've found him
Passed out in the sand

Mr. Sullivan's got a shack on the beach
He lives there like a king
I know he likes to spear fish
But he's never caught anything
When he came from the main land
Nobody really knows
But he's on the run
So the story goes
He's down here laying low

Storm's rolling in
He will see it coming
Say you need a hand
You know that he'll come running
To board up your windows
He's getting pretty tired
The man never quits
But sometimes he gets fired

I told him of the rumors
He just laughs and laughs and laughs
He said, "Kid, I wish that I had
A more interesting past
No I just love the sea
There isn't much else to say
I had a boring life
Flying commercial flights
I had to get away"