COYOTES DON'T STOP AT THE GATE (BRYAN KELLY CAMEO)

Sun going down on a manicured mile,

Palm trees combed just right,

Somewhere past the last cocktail sign

The island changes sides.

Gated smiles and painted lines,

Ocean acting like it’s tame,

Security waving folks on through

Like everybody’s name’s the same.

But when the moon hits the marsh just right

And the tide pulls back its grin,

You’ll hear something laughing low

Where the fairways end.

Coyotes calling through the dunes,

Like they got nothing left to prove,

They don’t read signs, they don’t show ID,

They don’t stop at the gate for you or me.

Guy at the gate says, “Hold up, friend,”

Coyotes don’t even break stride,

Just trot on past like they own the place

And the night’s on their side.

Wild Dunes glowing porch-light gold,

Rules printed crisp and neat,

Coyotes cut straight through the grass

Like shortcuts still exist.

Coyotes calling through the dunes,

Laughing at the afternoon,

They don’t read signs, they don’t show ID,

They don’t stop at the gate for you or me.

Verse 3 (CAMEO — CALLED SHOT)

Down by the range there’s a voice that carries

Clean through the salt and breeze,

That’s Bryan Kelly barking swing advice

From tee to seventh green.

Boston vowels riding Carolina air,

“Kid, slow down—ya rushin’ again,”

Coyotes stop like they’re considering it…

Then keep doing whatever the hell they planned.

Instrumental Drift – “Night Walk”

This island likes its fences straight,

Its manners smooth, its drinks just right,

But some things come through anyway

Every single night.

Final Chorus

Coyotes calling through the dunes,

Same old song, different moon,

They don’t read signs, they don’t show ID,

They don’t stop at the gate for you or me.

By morning they’re gone like nothing happened,

Footprints swallowed by the sand,

Island wakes up polite again

Pretending it’s in charge.