Sand in the floorboards, names on the wall
The deckhand and the teacher claimed the same stool
Somebody yelled Roll Tide, somebody yelled y'all
The Marine made it three — nobody played it cool
I'd written down six songs and played exactly two
The Bushwacker knocked the setlist off the stand
The teacher from Foley said she'd heard that too
She knew the whole third verse — sang it unplanned
The bar sits in two states and neither one agrees
On the closing time or the tax on your round
I played past midnight in the Florida breeze
And Alabama wouldn't let me put my guitar down
State line mullet choir, pass that thing around
Florida feet, Alabama sound
Two last calls, one busted light
Everybody's local by Saturday night
The deckhand said his boat was named Forgiven
Teacher said "That sounds optimistic, friend"
Marine said "Mine was called Bad Decision — given"
Then saluted like that made it official in the end
Somebody threw a mullet toward the Alabama side
The bartender stopped mid-pour to call the play
Marine said "Out of bounds" with his hands open wide
Schoolteacher gave the fish the benefit anyway
I tried a heartbreak number — good luck with that
Teacher sang along from somewhere in the room
Deckhand cried into his sleeve right where he sat
Marine saluted at the general gloom
State line mullet choir, pass that thing around
Florida feet, Alabama sound
Two last calls, one busted light
Everybody's local by Saturday night
I lost my capo somewhere during song three
The Marine had it on his finger like a class ring
Said he found it in the Bushwacker, gave it back to me
Saluted, then joined in on the next refrain we'd sing
The deckhand drew the state line in spilled beer
Straight across the floor between our shoes
Said "This side forgives, that side forgets — hear?"
"But I forgot which side we're on, so choose"
State line mullet choir, pass that thing around
Florida feet, Alabama sound
Two last calls, one busted light
Everybody's local by Saturday night
They swept up the Bushwacker and the mullet and the tab
The Marine was still saluting the vending machine
The deckhand found his keys in the teacher's bag
I found my setlist underneath the tambourine
The bar sat on the state line under one bad light
Florida door, Alabama parking lot
A busted tube amp buzzing on the right
And I'd been in the choir and I hadn't forgot