[Verse 1] Mornings in the water, cold enough to wake you clean, Aussies out back sliding through sets like it’s routine. We’re stuck on the inside, catching foam, learning slow— Didn’t matter much… that’s just how it goes. [Chorus] Camp Surf days, nothing fancy to say— Just salt in our hair and time slipping away. If I could crack open one yesterday… I’d take one more day. [Verse 2] Shed with no power, sleeping bags on hardwood, Glow-stick stars hanging where nothing else could. Kids rolled in Sunday, packed up again Friday— Then came the quiet in that Camp Surf way. [Verse 3 – Weekends Off] When the week wrapped up, the switch flipped fast, Board meetings out back once the long grind passed. Then K38, staying up late— Rolling back Sunday just ahead of their gates. Weekends off weren’t rest… just another wave— Camp taught us the chances youth gave. [Bridge – Mid-Week Bay Day] But mid-week Bay Day always hit just right, Kayaks drifting slow in that easy light. A quiet little pause from the usual spin— One still moment we kept tucked within. [Final Chorus] Camp Surf days… they don’t roll back around, But the sound of those waves still feels like it’s now. If life ever handed me one replay— I’d take one more day.
