All the other stuff tired itself out first, not me
And after waiting, fighting patiently on my knees
All the other stuff tired itself out first, not me
And in its wake, appeared the touch and call
Of a different breed
One who set to get me wise, and got me there
And then, got me
And what a thing, to know what could be instead
Oh, what a blessed curse to see
It took the agenda from its place in my bed
Made a merry paramour of me
O' Sailor, why'd you do it
What'd you do that for
Saying there's nothing to it
And then letting it go by the boards
O' sailor, why'd you do it
What'd you do that for
Giving me eyes to view it
As it goes by the boards
