Lyrics Surfin’ New Jersey - Slaughter Beach, Dog

Not a poet, not even close
Surfin' New Jersey
The one I know isn't here
They look at me funny, hee-hee-hee

Get in with our suits zipped up
Bobbing a while
I try, but I don't catch much
Driving home on the turnpike

Shirtless in a silver sedan
Air rolling in
Angry rock 'n' roll slips out
Into the Pine Barrens

Falling asleep in the sun
Bow to the green
Burning through the black of our shades
Making toast of our dreams
Bearing the image of Christ