Well, You've heard about the alligators sleepin' in the shade
You've heard heard about the sugar barons screwin' up the 'glades,
It's a melting pot existence
That is hard to contemplate
And a never ending battle in the Sunshine State

But far, far away from the front page news,
Far, far away from the headline blues,
Down a secondary road that severely shows its age
The forties comes to life on a make-shift stage

It's the Bob Robert's Society Band
Playing every Sunday at the Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and they don't play loud
It's the magic of the music that still draws a crowd

Well, the word goes out
From Melbourne to the Keys
The faithful get the message
Like it's written on the breeze
Young folks, old folks,
'Bout to cut a rug
Fox Trot, Bunny Hop,
Do the Jitterbug,

To the Bob Robert's Society Band
Playing every Sunday at the Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and they don't play loud
It's the magic of the music that still draws a crowd

I saw mini vans from Boca,
Buses from Perrine
There were people speaking Hindu
In the Bar-B-Que line
A couple on their honeymoon
Looked a bit confused
But the boys in the band put 'em right in the mood
They played

A lady dressed in purple started dancing all alone
Then she sauntered oh so gently to the vacant microphone
She sounded like she's someone and never missed a beat
By the time the number ended they were dancin' in the street

They'd died and gone to heaven,
That lively little crowd,
Trombones and saxophones
Sent 'em through the clouds
It could have gone all night
But the party had to stop
When they blew the circuit breaker
In the souvenir shop

It's the Bob Robert's Society Band
Playing every Sunday at the Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and they don't play loud
It's the magic of the music that still draws a crowd

It's the Bob Robert's Society Band
Playing every Sunday down at the Orange Grove Stand
They don't play grunge and they don't play loud
It's the magic of the music that still draws a crowd