We come on the sloop John B.
my grandfather and me
Round Nassau town we did roam
drinking all night
we got in a fight
We feel so break-up we want to go home
Histe up the John B. sails
see how the mainsail set
Send for the captain ashore, let me go home
I want to go home, please let me go home
I feel so break-up I want to go home
And the first mate he get drunk
break up the people´s trunk
Constable come aboard and take him away
Mr John Stone, please let me alone
I feel so break-up I want to go home
The poor cook he get the fits
and throw away all the grits
then he take and eat up all of my corn
I want to go home, please let me go home
this is the worst trip since I´ve been born
Prenumerera på:
Kommentarer till inlägget (Atom)
1 kommentar:
Skorna står inklämda i klädkammaren, jag SKA fixa iordning där nångång! :) GOD JUL!
Skicka en kommentar