Story

In the middle of recording this, Jim Robeson asked, “So, who are Rose and Larry?”  Good question!  I had to stop and think a minute, but I’d have to say that our central characters here are Everyman and Everywoman.  And their island vacation, fraught with all its perceived complications, is simply a metaphor for . . .

This is a classic case of the other musicians making crucial additions to the end product as we recorded.  No way could I have imagined the percussion rhythms or the moving bass notes or bits of melodic line in the steelpans. Tom and Jim and Kristen listened to my basic guitar and vocal tracks and than ran with it.  (Listen for the little lizards scampering by!)

 

©  2002 Steven E. Cutts

recorded and mixed by Jim Robeson in the fall/winter ’15-‘16

 

  • Steve, guitar and lead vocal
  • Kristen Jones, steelpans
  • Tom Teasley, percussion
  • Jim Robeson, bass

Lyrics

The island shuttle touched down on the runway

In Paradise on a Sunday afternoon

Just twenty minutes behind schedule

But perhaps not a minute too soon.

 

Rose and Larry barely glanced outside the windows

Too intent on arguing who would carry what;

Then they haggled over taxi fare

And pulled up to the hotel in a huff.

 

            Their first room didn’t look out at the sunrise, just the sunset,

            And the second room Rose labeled as “grotesque.”

            Even after all their conversation with the manager

            They never read the card at the front desk that said

                       

                        “Take a deep breath; welcome to Paradise!

                        In Paradise the time speeds by too fast.

                        You don’t dare get distracted given a week in Paradise;

                        In Paradise a week just doesn’t last.”

 

Rose spent most of Monday writing notes on postcards

Sending home the news of all that had gone wrong.

Tuesday Larry pondered brochures

For the tours they never really would go on.

 

            Wednesday they went shopping for the perfect sets of beach-wear

            So the surf could put them in a better mood.

            After fashion consultation and their thoughtful acquisition

            They found everybody swimming in the nude.

 

                        Hey!  Take a deep breath; welcome to Paradise!

                        You never know if you’ll be back again.

                        You don’t dare get distracted given a week in Paradise.

                        It always seems like it will never end.

 

            They complained about the spicy food, cheap gin in their martinis,

            ‘Bout the maids that came too late and all the birds that sang too early;

            Rose was scared when little lizards scampered by;

            The beach chairs left impressions on their thighs.

 

But by Thursday Rose and Larry were beginning

To appreciate the sun and sand and foam . . .

Then on Friday they obsessed about

Repacking all their luggage to head home.

 

            They looked out at the foliage and sunshine through the windows

            As the shuttle taxied down the landing strip.

            The pilot mentioned that the weather back at home was stormy,

            Then said, “Sure hope you had a lovely trip!

 

                        But wave good-bye to beautiful Paradise.

                        Didn’t it feel like time went by too fast?

                        You don’t dare get distracted given a week in Paradise;

                        In Paradise, a week just doesn’t last.”

 

                        Oh, take a deep breath; welcome to Paradise.

                        You never know if you’ll be back again.

                        You don’t dare get distracted given a week in Paradise;

                        It always seems like it will never end. 

                        Never end.  Never end.  But it always ends!