8 acessos
¡°Slat fare, North sea¡±
Roll on, roll off
With these words I drown
Topmast secured
Hatches battened down
Sometimes I think
It must be different on land
But from the mast I can only see tyrants
Still in command
¡°Salt fare, North Sea¡±
Fish & Chip supper
Battered, no bones
Hung, drawn and quoted
And drifting alone
One thousand lashes
For the Age of Reason
Salt for your wounds
When the cod's in season
¡°Salt fare, North sea¡±
We reach the horizon
And sail over the edge
Drunk on our memories
More sober than a judge
I'm wasting time
That I can't afford -
I know I'd die on the gallows
Before I'd die of being bored
¡°Salt fare, North Sea¡±