Son of a Son of a Sailor

As the son of a son of a sailor, I went, out on the sea for adventure
Expanding the view, of the captain and crew,
like a man just released from indenture

As a dreamer of dreams and a travelin’ man, I have chalked up many a mile
Read dozens of books, about heroes and crooks,
and I’ve learned much, from both of their styles

Son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor
Son of a gun, load the last ton, one step ahead of the jailer

Now awa–y in the near future, southeast of disorder
You can shake the hand, of the mango man, as he greets you at the border

And the la–dy she hails from Tri-ni-dad, Island of the spices
Salt for your meat, and cinnamon sweet, and the rum is for all your good vices

Haul the sheet in, as we ride on the wind, that our forefathers harnessed before us
Hear the bells ring, as the tide rigging sings. It’s a son of a gun of a chorus

Instrumental

Where it all ends, I can’t fathom my friends. If I knew, I might toss out my anchor
So I’ll, cruise along, always searchin’ for songs, not a lawyer, a thief or a banker

But a son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor
Son of a gun, load the last ton, one step ahead of the jailer

I’m just a son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor

The sea’s in my veins, my tradition remains. I’m just glad I don’t live in a trailer