On a day named for work, nobody’s working
The sand and surf is crowded on International Beach
The kids are frolicking, the teens are flirting
To the tune of arcade ditties and metallic coaster screech
Squeezing out one last carefree day
With nary a thought of impending school or work
Today they’re all vacationers on parade
Tomorrow they’ll be students, teachers, drivers, and clerks
Come 5:00 this all will stop
It’ll be goodbye flip, goodbye flop
Back to the office, back to the shop
It’s summer’s last hurrah.
Of course, the season will keep on going
For at least a couple of weeks
The autumn winds won’t yet be blowing
It’s a while yet till winter’s bleak
But the crowds will be gone and so will their clamor
As well as their entitled attitude
No more clatter, no more clangor
Then the creative types will find their solitude
Come 5:00 this all will stop ...
Bennies, shoobies, call the tourists what you will
They’ll all go back to their urban haunts
Then this place will be briefly shrill
With the locals’ belated jeers and taunts
The businessmen will tally up their take
From another successful summer season
But until then, some more time to fry and bake
In the last of the sunshine, for no good reason.
Come 5:00 this all will stop ...
No earth-shattering observation
Was ever meant to come of this
I just watch as this corner of the nation
Gives its leisure time one last kiss.
©2023 The Hesh Inc.
I wrote these lyrics on one of my last Labor Days living at the Jersey Shore before heading to the West Coast. I must have been ruminating over why the powers that be insisted that Labor Day be the 'official' end of the summer season, the beaches must now be devoid of lifeguards, and everybody must get serious and go back to work/school/wherever, when there are three more perfectly good weeks of delightful weather before the real autumn sets in. (And then, I moved to Los Angeles, where the question is really moot.)
No music, yet.