«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 codжЉЇ in season
«Salt fare, North sea»
We reach the horizon
And sail over the edge
Drunk on our memories
More sober than a judge
IжЉ¦ wasting time
That I canжЉ° afford —
I know IжЉЋ die on the gallows
Before IжЉЋ die of being bored
«Salt fare, North Sea»