Florida Man Rides Again
Well, friends... I finally did it.
I wrote a song about one of the most unpredictable forces ever to roam the Sunshine State:
Florida Man.
He is not always right.
He is rarely prepared.
But somehow, he is almost always entertaining.
Florida Man Rides Again is a tribute to the kind of chaos that somehow feels completely normal once you have lived here long enough.
Questionable decisions.
Backyard engineering.
Wildlife encounters nobody planned for.
And the kind of confidence that can only be produced by sunshine, humidity, and absolutely no backup plan.
This is the guy who wakes up in a kiddie pool with one shoe missing and decides that whatever happened must have been a pretty good time.
The guy who straps a lawn chair to something that should never leave the ground.
The guy whose neighbors do not even try to stop him anymore.
They just start filming.
And somehow, that is only Monday.
By lunch, there is a jet ski somewhere it does not belong.
A raccoon riding shotgun.
Fireworks in the back seat.
And a deputy standing nearby with the exhausted expression of someone who has clearly had this conversation before.
That is what made the song so much fun.
Florida Man is not really one person.
He is a state of mind.
A strange combination of confidence, creativity, heat exhaustion, poor planning, and the absolute certainty that whatever happens next is probably going to work out.
There are iguanas falling out of trees.
Tiki bars built from materials that were never intended to become tiki bars.
Homemade contraptions that technically qualify as transportation.
And somebody, somewhere, explaining:
“Relax. I know what I’m doing.”
He does not.
But that has never stopped him before.
So Florida Man Rides Again is for the strange, sunburned, flip-flop-wearing spirit of Florida.
The swamp.
The sand.
The hurricanes.
The wildlife.
The headlines.
And every person who has ever looked at something completely ridiculous happening nearby and simply said:
“Yep. Florida.”
So grab your flip-flops, raise your Solo cup, and say a little prayer.
Florida Man rides again.
Florida Man Rides Again
Verse 1
He woke up Monday morning in a kiddie pool,
With a sunburned back and a missing shoe.
Said, “I don’t know what happened, but I bet it was grand,”
That’s just another day for Florida Man.
He had a cooler full of bait and a half-charged phone,
A lawn chair strapped to a homemade drone.
Neighbors started filming from across the street,
He yelled, “Y’all ain’t seen nothin’ till this thing hits three!”
Chorus
He’s the Florida Man, born in the sun,
Half bad idea and half loaded fun.
Flip-flops slappin’, got a gator by the hand,
Lord help the world, here comes Florida Man.
No shirt, no shoes, no backup plan,
Just a headline waiting in a rusty van.
From the swamp to the sand, everybody understands,
You can’t out-weird the Florida Man.
Verse 2
He tried to ride a jet ski through a drive-thru lane,
Ordered two fish sandwiches and forgot his name.
The manager said, “Sir, you can’t park that there,”
He said, “Relax, my cousin is the mayor.”
By noon he had a raccoon riding shotgun,
A box of fireworks and a hotdog bun.
Deputy rolled up with a long, deep sigh,
Said, “Buddy, we’ve talked about this forty-five times.”
Chorus
He’s the Florida Man, born in the sun,
Half bad idea and half loaded fun.
Flip-flops slappin’, got a gator by the hand,
Lord help the world, here comes Florida Man.
No shirt, no shoes, no backup plan,
Just a headline waiting in a rusty van.
From the swamp to the sand, everybody understands,
You can’t out-weird the Florida Man.
Bridge
He ain’t no villain, he ain’t no saint,
He’s a cautionary tale in peeling paint.
He’s hurricane prep with a karaoke mic,
A bass boat, a mullet, and a stolen bike.
He’s got sunscreen somewhere, but he don’t know when,
And by tomorrow morning, he’ll be trending again.
Verse 3
Tuesday came with iguanas falling out of trees,
He caught three barehanded just to make his niece say, “Please.”
Then he built a tiki bar from a busted shed,
And declared himself governor of the cul-de-sac.
He said, “Life’s too short to be normal, y’all,”
Then bungee jumped off a strip mall wall.
Landed in a bounce house, waved to the band,
They struck up the anthem for Florida Man.
Outro
So raise up your Solo cup, wave your tan,
Say a little prayer for Florida Man.
He may be wrong, but he ain’t bland,
Lord help us all, here comes Florida Man.
Yeah, Lord help us all, here comes Florida Man.