Well, you heard about the alligators sleepin' in the shade
Ya heard about the sugar barons screwin' up the Glades
It's a melting pot existence that is hard to contemplate
And a never-ending battle in the Sunshine State

But far far away from the front page news
Far far away from the headline blues
Down a secondary road that severely shows its age
The forties comes to life on a make-shift stage

It's the Bob Robert's Society Band
Playing every Sunday at the Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and they don't play loud
It's the magic of the music that still draws a crowd

Well, the word goes out from Melbourne to the Keys
The faithful get the message like it's written on the breeze
Young folks, old folks about to cut a rug
Fox trot, bunny hop, do the jitterbug


I saw mini vans from Boca and busses from Perrine
There were people speaking Hindu in the bar-b-que line
A couple on their honeymoon looked a bit confused
But the boys in the band put them fight in the mood.

A lady dressed in purple started dancing all alone
Then she sauntered oh so gently to the vacant microphone
She sounded like she's someone and never missed a beat
By the time the number ended they were dancin' in the street

They'd died and gone to heaven, that lively little crowd
Trombones and saxophone sent them through the clouds
It could gave gone all night but the party had to stop
When they blew the circuit breaker in the souvenir shop