I was tired of my lady
We'd been togehter too long
Like a worn-out recording
of a favorite song.
So while she lay there sleeping
I read the paper in bed
And in the personal columns
There was this letter I read:

"If you like Pina Coladas
And getting caught in the rain,
If you're not into yoga
If you have half a brain,
If you'd like making love at midnight
In the dunes of the Cape,
Then I'm the love you've looked for:
Write to me and escape."

I didn't think about my lady
I know I sound kind of mean
But me and my old lady
Have fallen into the same old dull routine.
So I wrote to the paper
Took out a personal ad
And though I'm nobody's poet
I thought it wasn't half-bad:

"Yes I like Pina Coladas
And getting caught in the rain,
I'm not much into health food,
I am into champagne.
I've got to meet you by tomorrow noon
And cut through all this red-tape
At a bar called O'Malley's
Where we'll plan out escape."

So I waited with high hopes
And she walked into the place
I knew her smile in an instant
I knew the curve of her face
It was my own lovely lady
And she said, "Oh, it's you"
Then we laughed for a moment
And I said, "I never knew."

That you like Pina Coladas
Getting caught in the rain
And the feel of the ocean
And the taste of champagne
If you'd like making love at midnight
In the dunes of the Cape
You're the lady I've looked [bad word] with me and escape.