Saturday Night Fever
Fred and I were on the beach one night.
The tide was high, the mighty waves
Pounded the sand and the huge rocks
Leaving a trail of suds in their wake
As if there were laundresses out there
Soaping the day’s wash in the ocean,
When some guy in a tuxedo showed up,
His trousers rolled; his feet bare.
Without a glance at us, he went in.
Hey Mister! We shouted as he strolled
Deeper and deeper as if determined
To go for a swim or to drown himself.
Just then his chick darted out of the dark
Disheveled and half-undressed.
He was drunk, and she didn’t seem to be,
Catching him just as he went under
Till they both regained their footing
And started smooching, so we left them.