SAILOR MAN

THEY SAY THE LIFE OF A SAILOR MAN

IS LIKE TAKINí A TRIP ON LIQUID LAND,

AND YOU KNOW SOMETIMES,

IT FEELS THAT WAY.

 

MOVINí OVER THE SEA ON RUBBER GROUND,

BLUE SAND DUNES AND SALTY TOWNS,

STREET LIGHTS MADE OF STARS

IN THE SKY.

 

I LIVED MY YOUTH IN A TOWN NEAR BALTIMORE,

SPENT SOME TIME ON THE WESTERN SHORE.

TREADINí WATER IN A FREEWAY SEA.

THE LIFE OF A SAILOR MANíS GOT THE BEST OF ME.

 

THE SUN COMES UP ON THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD.

NEXT DAY YOUíLL FIND IT AT THE FOOT OF YOUR BED,

GENTLY ROLLINí

TO A COOL SEA BREEZE.

 

SO I STAND BY THE WATER WHERE THE BREAKERS BREAK,

LOOK OUT TO SEA, THIS OLD HEART ACHES.

THE ONLY LIFE FOR ME,

IS ON THE SEA.

 

NO FENCE TO KEEP THIS SAILOR IN,

A BIG WHITE SAIL AND AN ENGINE OF WIND.

STREETS ARE MADE OF GLASS,

SMOOTH AS SILK.

 

OH, IT AINíT MY WAY TO BE LANDLOCKED.

I GUESS IíM GONNA NEVER STOP.

PULL MY ANCHOR IN,

AND HEAD TO SEA.