“Right hand to God, left hand holding the jewels, and I’m swearing up and down, I’m cursing out the moon, tide stole my you, these creases in my brow ain’t tan lines, saltwater swole my eyes (beachlife), the sun’s burning black and blue (on my green eyes), too cold this side of june. It ain’t natural. Right hand in yours, left hand holding the juice,when that jungle flower blooms, leave it in the ground, don’t try to cut it out, the creases in your brow ain’t tan lines, saltwater swole your eyes (beachlife), the sun burned black and blue (on your green eyes), too cold this side of june, it ain’t natural. I’ll rebel, I’ll rebel, but it ain’t natural. I take care, I take care, it’s just now growing well. I’m no match for you. It’s not hard to tell. This isn’t doing well, but we’re under the palm trees, thinking heaven must be, somewhere under these palm trees, with all the hell we’re raising, at least we had the palm trees, to shade us from the ray beams, but not even the palm trees, could save us from the flames.