All the shops are shuttered
And the bars are slack
The summer people have all gone back

Some to relax
In the warmer climes
While others return
To their daily grinds

It's my favorite scene
In my North Shore dream

My old guitar
Is full of sand and shells
And many a rum soaked tale it tells

Of marim grass
And foxes eyes
Shooting stars
By the fireside

It's my favorite scene
In my North Shore dream

She's pickin' up empties
And junk in the sand
Left by some folks who just don't understand

Holiday snapshots
They took of their kids
Blowing away
Just like smoke on the wind
It's my favorite scene
In my North Shore dream

It's my favorite scene
In my North Shore dream