Seaside Spring Break
Where to even start. Seaside used to be an upscale private community, with vacation rentals and great shops! Still is most of the year! These days, spring break is OUT OF CONTROL! Every year the local sheriff’s department tries to ease the pain a little bit, and they do a great job. It is still pretty wacky every year though. HUGE crowds of rich kids, aimlessly wandering in giant groups.
LYRICS: Seaside Spring Break
Well the sun came up on Seaside town,
White sand lookin’ mighty fine,
But the Escalades were three deep thick
With out-of-state license signs.
Boat shoes, blow-ups, Bluetooth speakers,
Daddy’s card’s about to scream,
Every kid worth half a hedge fund
Just arrived for spring break week.
They got no plan and nowhere to go,
But buddy, they showed up strong,
Standing around in khaki shorts
Like “What beach am I on?”
It’s the Seaside spring break parade,
Hundreds of kids just standin’ in shade,
Walton County Sheriff sayin’, “Son, move along,”
So they migrate three blocks and do it again all day long.
They ain’t tearin’ nothin’ up, they ain’t startin’ fights,
Just cloggin’ up sidewalks from noon ‘til night,
Can’t get in bars, can’t buy a beer,
So they just… exist… everywhere here.
Sheriff cruisers rollin’ slow,
Like cattle dogs on the sand,
Not mad, just tired of explainin’
“Y’all can’t loiter where you stand.”
Every time they blow the whistle,
The crowd just calmly shifts,
Like a very polite flash flood
Wearing Vineyard Vines and Crocs with clips.
They say, “Yes sir,” and shuffle off,
Two hundred deep in a wave,
End up right back where they started
By the ice cream shop again.
It’s the Seaside spring break parade,
Millionaires-in-training, tenth grade,
Sheriff’s playin’ whack-a-mole with teens,
Politely herdin’ them like entitled sardines.
They ain’t drunk, they ain’t wild, they ain’t loud,
Just a mass of privilege lost in a crowd,
Can’t get in bars, can’t rent a chair,
So they stand real close and breathe gulf air.
Somebody’s dad’s on speakerphone,
Arguin’ with the law,
Sayin’, “My son’s a good kid, man,”
While blockin’ the whole dang crosswalk.
Girls takin’ pics for socials,
Guys askin’ where the party went,
Sheriff sighs and tips his hat,
Thinkin’, “Lord, it’s only Wednesday yet.”
Yeah it’s the Seaside spring break parade,
Sunburnt futures and trust fund grades,
Marchin’ aimless like a beachside mall,
Sheriff just tryin’ to give ‘em space—that’s all.
They ain’t breakin’ laws, just breakin’ flow,
Every sidewalk movin’ painfully slow,
Can’t get in bars, can’t go nowhere,
So they just hover… menacingly… there.
Come Sunday night they’ll all be gone,
town exhales, streets feel wide,
Till next year when the rich kids march
Back down to Seaside.