One of the original Beetles Island Rum Took the night train out of old Bangkok, Held in dreams by its gentle rock, Made a mad dash to beat the clock Then boarded the bus to the ferry dock. Cut through the water like a crystal knife Smiling faces, husband and wife, Of life's problems there isn't a one That can't be cured by ocean and sun Strolling slowly along the beach, The sunset like a Georgia peach, Old friends warm as the setting sun, And the fiery glow of the island rum. Hammock swaying on the cabin porch, It's getting dark, hey, where's my torch? Something made me lose track of time, Can't be the rum, must be the lime. Down the beach to Three Monkeys Bar, Two monkeys left but they didn't get far, One pouring drinks, two on the floor, Passing a bogie to the girl next door Walking slowly along the beach, The sunrise blurry, almost in reach, Old friends in bed with the setting sun, But I still feel the glow of the...