You’re done with work and you’re driving home in your GMC half ton
You realize the wind’s off shore and there’s a couple hours left of sun
You haven’t surfed ‘cause you’ve been working so much and the idea sounds like fun
So you stop at the house and you pick up your ten-foot rhino chasing gun
You’ve got no friends to surf with ‘cause they’re all strung out or in the joint
You’re looking for thrills and you know where to find them so you drive out to the point
You can’t believe your eyes-n
Twenty-foot waves are stacked to the horizon
Ride a wave
To a surfer’s grave
Twenty locals stand guard at the trail head, smiling and smoking a spliff
You know that if you paddle out they’re liable to roll your truck off a cliff
Your windshield’s smashed and your tires are slashed
before you even make it down the trail
The vibes are thick, but so are the lines and it still beats the county jail
Rocks are raining down all around as you put your wetsuit on
The aloha spirit was once the norm, but at the bay those days are long gone
It’s too big to be fun
Put down the gun
Ride a wave
To a surfer’s grave
The reef is boiling and the tubes are spitting and you feel the surge of the tide
Ten foot thick lips throw out so far that Mack trucks can find a place to hide
You see a fifty-foot wave and it’s calling your name so you stand up and take the drop
But you pearl and and get sucked up over the falls with a mountain of water on top
A friendly man named Diver Dan emerges from the hull of a sunken freighter
The rusted sign above his cave spells out S.S. Dominator
How does it feel
Livin’ like a moray eel?
Oooops you’re out of breath
Now it’s time for death