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Jack Johnson
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Holes to Heaven
The air was more than human
The heat was more than hungry
The cars were square and spitting diesel fumes
The bulls were running wild
Because they're big and mean and sacred
The children were playing cricket with no shoes
The next morning we woke up
With a seven-hour drive
There we were, stuck in Port Blaire
Where boats break and children stare
There were so many fewer questions
When stars were still just the holes to Heaven
And there were so many fewer questions
When stars were still just the holes to Heaven
Disembarking from the port
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With no mistakes of any sort
Moving south, engine running smooth
Officials were quite friendly
Once we drowned them with our sweet talk
And we bribed them with our cigarettes and booze
The next morning we woke up
With the sunrise to the right
Moving back north to Port Blaire
Where boats break and children stare
There were so many fewer questions
When stars were still just the holes to Heaven
Yes, and there were so many fewer questions
When stars were still just the holes to Heaven
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