Bob Roberts Society Band

Well, you heard about the alligators
Sleepin' in the shade
You heard about the sugar barons
Screwin' up the glades
It's a melting pot existence that
Is hard to contemplate
And a never-ending battle in
The Sunshine State

But far, far away from the front page news
Far, far away from the headline blues
Down a secondary road that
Severely shows it's age
The forties comes to life
On a makeshift stage

It's the Bob Roberts Society Band
Playing every Sunday at the
Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and
They don't play loud
It's the magic of the music
That still draws a crowd

Well, the word goes out from
Melbourne to the Keys
The faithful get the message like
It's written on the breeze
Young folks, old folks 'bout to cut a rug
Fox Trot, Bunny Hop, do the Jitterbug

To the Bob Roberts Society Band
Playing every Sunday at the
Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and
They don't play loud
It's the magic of the music
That still draws a crowd

I saw minivans from Boca, buses from Perrine
There were people speaking Hindu
In the barbecue line
A couple on their honeymoon
Looked a bit confused
But the boys in the band put
'em right in the mood, they played

A lady dressed in purple
Started dancing all alone
Then she sauntered oh-so gently
To the vacant microphone
She sounded like she's someone that
Never missed a beat
By the time the number ended
They were dancin' in the street

They'd died and gone to heaven
That lively little crowd
Trombones and saxophones sent 'em
Through the clouds
It could have gone all night
But the party had to stop
When they blew the circuit breaker
In the souvenir shop

It's the Bob Roberts Society Band
Playing every Sunday at the
Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and
They don't play loud
It's the magic of the music
That still draws a crowd

It's the Bob Roberts Society Band
Playing every Sunday down at
The Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge, they don't play loud
It's the magic of the music
That still draws a crowd

Oh-yea-a-a ah!