On the shores of Tobago,
where the sun comes to hide.
The weather is perfect,
and so is the night.

Where the fish are fresh,
the water clear,
the skies above,
the grassy hills.

There I want to be,
sit and just think,
have a smoke,
have a drink.

Live life slow,
forget about the show,
just relax,
rest my back.

Watch other islanders
go about their day.
Hardship and worry
every perfect day.

Until that day, I dream
of beaches clean.
Until then, I think:
in Tobago water, I want to swim.