Stuck Inside of Oasis

Lyrics to Stuck

Stuck Inside of Oasis

A farewell song to Rudi Heinrich Words and music by Bobby Angel Live at the The Brass Tap July 27, 2019

Gators are splashing wildly down the end of the boardwalk I try to see what the problem is but a tourist stops me to talk. And the visitors politely ask me questions that can’t seem to wait, like “Do you keep those alligators in a cage?” to which I answer “No ma’am it’s me that can’t escape”

Oh, Joe Lord, can this really be the end to be stuck inside of Oasis with the cypress blues again

Well Campfire Charlie he’s up at the Alley, not too far from the Florida Trail speaking to wildcat geologist about some old abandoned wells.“ Just two miles down” says the wildcatter, “Is the age when the dinosaurs played” to which Charlie responds, “yes I fondly remember those days.”

Oh Guy Bradley can this really be the end, to be stuck inside of an old gas station with the cypress blues again

Airboaters glide south to Coconuts, buggies north to Calstones, while I’m stuck behind the front desk answering a landline phone. So me I sit so patiently, opening the cash register for change. The people are all from so many different places, but my job’s always the same

Oh, Sig Walker, can this really be the end to be stuck inside a glass cube with stuffed panther and the cypress blues again.

“Nobody owns the water man,” I heard that said before, if they gave me the keys to the kingdom I’d open up the water doors. And so I posted a message on the old social media line that went viral with a thousand nasty comments, maybe I’ll just post a photo of a bird the next time

Oh shit, I somehow did it again, all the while being stuck inside of the VC with the cypress blues again.

The skunk ape gave me two tips for living off the land: One was to lather up with Ochopee mosquitoes the other was to double fist water moccasins in both hands. And like a fool they bit me and it jumbled up my mind.  Now the decades are all out of order which as a historian actually suites me fine

Oh, Joe Browder, can this really be the end, to be stuck inside an old hangar with the cypress blues again

The senator came down here to let everyone to kiss his ring and posing for a few group photo after a speech that promises everything. After all the confetti had fallen, and wouldn’t it be Rudi’s fate, to have been caught without a flat hat and not even get a piece of cake

Oh Art Marshall is this really the end, to be stuck around a bunch of dollar knickknacks with the cypress blues again

All the books upstairs in the Library, I’ve read them all twice or more, once for the information and the other times ‘cause I was bored. Yes, Reynold’s Sawmill Mill may look like ruins and Monroe Station burned the floor, but me I can see them so clearly just like in the good old days of yore

Oh Cap’n Turner can this really be the end to be stuck at the air conditioning with the cypress blues again

Five years passes in Orlando so Rudi returns to say hello.  The cypress trees look the same, but most of the faces he no longer knows. And so he cried a tear that soaked deep into the peat and turned into sheet flow of understanding that the march of time is a one way street

Oh mama, no, it wasn’t the end and I miss being stuck Oasis, those were some of the best days I ever had!

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