A couple of young girls went sailing down A1A   Into the arms of Florida, sailing down the highway   Singing their heads off, protected by the holy ghost   Flying in from the ocean, driving with their eyes closed      The night wants to kiss you deep, and be on his way   Pretend he don't know you the very next day      Isn't it hard sometimes? Isn't it lonely?   How I still hang around here, and there's nothing to hold me      You slide down into the sea from twelve hours on your feet   And get the tide to wash you away, thousands and thousands of days   And someone you never meet, signs a check you get every week   You try and still can't forget all the strangers that you have met      The night never owed you nothing anyway   Makes promises that he never intends to keep every day      Isn't it hard sometimes? Isn't it lonely?   How I still hang around here, and there's nothing to hold me      Every time, every year, travelers come and go   You see them landing with their pale wings and flying back to the snow      And the summer comes marching in with his heavy boots on   Kicking along the blacktopped sidewalks of A1A   The young girls in their bare feet, cigarettes smoking   Looking every which way, wishing and hoping      And you want the night just to let you sleep and be on his way   Wrap you up in some cool sheets and have nothing to say      Isn't it hard sometimes? Isn't it lonely?   How I still hang around here, and there's nothing to hold me      Isn't it hard sometimes? Isn't it lonely?   How I still hang around here, and there's nothing to hold me