In a small town called Rio Vista, down on Highway Twelve,
Across the Rio Bridge, where stories unfold and alot untold
The hum of water, from boats flying bye,
Where fishing lines drift on the water next to the rocky levels and walnut trees
Days are spent in drunken laughter, with a rod and reel in hand,
Where every cast tells tales, every night coyote yeeeeeellll rio Vista with its fucked up bridge In the warmth of summer’s glow, everyone swims fish's and drinks smokes bud
Everyone knows each other; there is nothing you can do that won't be found out
Cousins, aunts, and uncles gather under skies to watch bass derby fireworks
At the heart of every gathering, there is bound to be a fight
A safe haven for the young, where roots grow deep and wide,
In Rio Vista, there’s nowhere to hide.
From the sunsets on the river to the morning rise of awsome colors illuminating the sky
In this small, charming city, there's a warm, familiar grace.
With each wave that rolls gently, and all the familiar faces
Rio Vista, the place where you have to fight the bridge just to get in .