Migration
By: Jimmy Buffett
1974

CLookin' (x32010@1)back at my background
                 G7Tryin' (320001@1)to figure out how I ever got here

Some things are still a mystery to me
      C (x32010@1)                C7While (x32310@1)others are much too clear
         FI'm (133211@1)just  livin' in the sunshine
     C (x32010@1)                   AmStay (x02210@1)contented most of the time
      D7Yeah, (xx0212@1)listenin' to Murphy, Walker, and Willis
                            G (320003@1)  G7Sing (320001@1)me their Texas rhymes

Now most of the people who retire in Florida
Are wrinkled and they lean on a crutch
And mobile homes are smotherin' my keys
I hate those bastards so much
I wish a summer squall would blow them
All the way up to fantasy land

Am (x02210@1)              D7 (xx0212@1)   Yeah, they're ugly and square, they don't belong here
                  F (133211@1)        G7 (320001@1)    C (x32010@1)   They looked a lot better as beer cans

Chorus:
               Am (x02210@1)     Yeah and that's why it's still a mystery to me
          G (320003@1)     Why some people live like they do
      Am (x02210@1)     So many nice things happenin' out there
           D7 (xx0212@1)                G (320003@1)     They never even seen the clues
              F (133211@1)     Oh, but we're doin' fine, we can travel and rhyme
        C (x32010@1)                    Am (x02210@1)     I know we been doin' our part
            F (133211@1)                  C (x32010@1)     Got a Caribbean soul I can barely control
               G7 (320001@1)                    Am (x02210@1)     C (x32010@1)     And some Texas hidden here in my heart

Well, now I might have joined the Merchant Marine
If I hadn't learned how to sing
And on top of all that I got married too early
'Cost me much more than a ring
But now those crazy days are over
Just gotta learn from the wrong things you've done
I came off the rebound, started lookin' around
Figured out it's time to have a little fun

(repeat chorus)

Well, now if I ever live to be an old man
I'm gonna sail down to Martinique
I'm gonna buy me a sweat-stained Bogart suit
And an African parakeet
And then I'll sit him on my shoulder
And open up my trusty old mind
I gonna teach him how to cuss, teach him how to fuss
And pull the cork out of a bottle of wine

(repeat chorus, then)
            F (133211@1)                  CYeah, (x32010@1)got a Caribbean soul I can barely control
         G7 (320001@1)                    F (133211@1)     G (320003@1)   C (x32010@1)  C7And (x32310@1)some Texas hidden here in my heart