This is a song, I guess I wrote this for an old friend of mine a few years back who could just not seem to find his occupation in the twentieth century. so he just chose to live in a fanta
Rld. and then I looked at him I went, well what the hell’s wrong with that? so if this song has been able to ease your pain ever so slightly, I’m glad I wrote it ’cause that’s what it’s for. it’
Led pirate looks at forty.
Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call
Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall
You’ve seen it all, you’ve seen it all
Watched the men who rode you switch from sail to steam
In your belly you can hold the treasures few have ever seen
Most of ’em dreams, most of ’em dreams
Yes, I am a pirate, two hundred years too late
The cannons don’t thunder, there’s nothin’ to plunder
I’m an over-forty victim of fate
Arriving too late, arriving too late
But I’ve done a bit of smugglin’, I’ve run my share of grass
Made enough money to buy miami, but I pissed it away so fast
Never meant to last, never meant to last
I have been drunk now for over two weeks,
Passed out and I rallied and I sprung a few leaks
But I’ve got stop wishin’, got to go fishin’
I’m down to rock bottom again
Just a few friends, just a few friends
Nice to see all of our friends every year. thank you
Friends.
Now I go for younger women, lived with several awhile
Though I ran ’em away, they’d come back one day
And I still could manage a smile
Sure takes a while, just takes a while
Mother, mother ocean, after all my years I’ve found
Occupational hazard being my occupation’s just not around
Feel like I’ve drowned, but I won’t wear a frown
Feel like I’ve drowned, I’m gonna go check out
Peachtree street somewhere downtown |
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