Nibblin' on sponge cake, watchin' the sun bake All of those tourists covered with oil, Strummin' my six-string on my front porch swing— Smell those shrimp, they're beginning to boil. F Wasted away again in Margaritaville, Searchin' for my lost shaker of salt. Some people claim that there's a woman to blame But I know it's nobody's fault. I don't know the reason I stayed here all season, Nothin' to show but this brand new tatoo, But it's a real beautie, a Mexican cutie. But how it got here I haven't a clue. (CHORUS) I blew out my flip-flop, stepped on a pop-top, Cut my heel had to cruise on back home, But there's booze in the blender, and soon it will render That frozen concoction that helps me hang on. (CHORUS) TAG: Some people say that there's a woman to blame But I know it's my own damn fault.