Lonely hearted hunter, don't say nothing. The hunger and the hurt got only one law. Never mind your words, unseen, unheard, unsung, undone. Ain't but
cane? The doryman he knows when the riptides will run, he sets out his nets and he sits in the sun. He thinks of his family and drinks of his rum and
Summer's here, I'm for that. Got my rubber sandals, got my straw hat. Got my cold beer, I'm just glad that I'm here. Summer's here, that suits me fine
Walk down that lonesome road all by yourself, Don't turn your head back over your shoulder. And only stop to rest yourself when the silver moon is shining