We rolled in slow with the gulf wind loud.
Sun-bleached dock and a restless crowd.
Flip-flop rhythms on splintered pine.
Old AM static and a salt-life sign.
Cooler sweating through busted ice.
Cheap dark rum and a sunset slice.
Laughter rising with the heat.
Barefoot sparks on a tar-black street.
Salt in the speakers, sand in the sound. (Ooooh)
Turn it up till the sun goes down. (Down)
Hands in the air when the tide rolls in. (Hey now)
Sunburnt souls and a reckless grin. (Aaaah)
We ain’t chasing nothing deeper. (No deeper)
Just salt in the speakers. (Speakers)
Salt-ring circles on a plywood bar.
Bonfire smoke under broken stars.
Old dock pilings and a tailgate song.
Same three chords we’ve known so long.
Time don’t shout, it just moves on by.
Like tide-washed names on a plywood sign.
Right here laughing in the dark.
Still got fire, still got spark.
Salt in the speakers, sand in the sound. (Ooooh)
Turn it up till the sun goes down. (Down)
Hands in the air when the tide rolls in. (Hey now)
Sunburnt souls and a reckless grin. (Aaaah)
We ain’t chasing nothing deeper. (No deeper)
Just salt in the speakers. (Speakers)
We were thunder on a wooden pier.
Now we toast what kept us here.
Some burned out and some burned bright.
Some still dancing in the firelight.
No grand plan, just salt and spark.
Music ringing through the dark.
Salt in the speakers, sand in the sound. (Ooooh)
Turn it up till the sun goes down. (Down)
Hands in the air when the tide rolls in. (Hey now)
Sunburnt souls and a reckless grin. (Aaaah)
We ain’t chasing nothing deeper. (No deeper)
Just salt in the speakers. (Speakers)
Salt in the speakers. (Ooooh)
Salt in the speakers. (Ooooh)
Turn it up, let it roll. (Let it roll)
Let it roll. (Aaaah)
Salt in the speakers. (Speakers)