Untitled (A Sea Chanty)

I'd tell you I like modern jazz
Except it isn't cool
I'd tell you I believe in Jesus Christ
But you'd brand me as a fool
I'd say you're the only thing I think about
But then I'd be your tool
Oh, sweet Lord, take me home

I likes to sail the open seas,
The crashing waves before me
I ain't above a jig of rum
When things are gettin' stormy
My mainsail hoisted high I stand
Aboard my sturdy craft
I man the bow, but when in port
I takes the lasses aft

Sometimes I'm so stressed that I can't sleep
I just wanna get off the world
My friends tell me getting off will help you relax
And you don't have to buy no one pearls
But that kind of escape isn't what I want
What I want is your love, girl
Oh, won't you sing me to sleep

An old sea dog like me don't go
For fine and frilly women
I tried to kiss a Paris dame
And ended up a-swimmin'
I likes to smell the good salt air
Don't need no gold or pearls
But after seven months at sea
I likes the dockyard girls

The sight of you, it makes me queasy
And your voice, it ills me
The touch of your hand sets my gut on fire
And the scent of your sweat, it thrills me
I'd better figure out just what I feel
Before your presence kills me
Oh, oh, oh

I'll sail the sea till my last day
Until the ocean breaks me
And then I'll sail to meet the Lord
I surely hope he takes me
For while at sea I work all day
At night I say my prayers
But when in port, a pint of ale
Then to the maids upstairs

Copyright © 1993 Stale Urine