Tired of my beeper, tired of my phone
Tired of this tired old tie I got on
Sick of this traffic jam that I'm in,
We all get sick of it all now and then.
When I've had it up to here I go down there.
To guitars, and tiki bars, and a whole lotta love,
Mangos and marley you know, fit me like a glove.
Sixth gear with nowhere to steer when enough is enough,
It's guitars, tiki bars, and a whole lotta love.
I feel like a fish jerked out of the sea,
Or a bird in a cage that's never seen a key,
Sick of this grind and I think that I ought
To bring this grind to a grinding hault.
Now I've had it up to here let's go down there.
To guitars, tiki bars, and a whole lotta love,
Mangos and marley you know, fit me like a glove.
Sixth gear with nowhere to steer when enough is enough,
It's guitars, tiki bars, and a whole lotta love.
Now I've had it up to here let's go down there.
To guitars, tiki bars, and a whole lotta love,
Mangos and marley you know, fit me like a glove.
Sixth gear with nowhere to steer when enough is enough,
It's guitars, tiki bars, and a whole lotta love...