"this is a song, I guess I wrote this for an old friend of mine a few years back who could just not seem to find his occupation in the twentieth century. so he just chose to live in a fanta
Rld. and then I looked at him I went, well what the hells wrong with that? so if this song has been able to ease your pain ever so slightly, Im glad I wrote it cause thats what its for. it
Led pirate looks at forty."
Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call
Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall
Youve seen it all, youve seen it all
Watched the men who rode you switch from sail to steam
In your belly you can hold the treasures few have ever seen
Most of em dreams, most of em dreams
Yes, I am a pirate, two hundred years too late
The cannons dont thunder, theres nothin to plunder
Im an over-forty victim of fate
Arriving too late, arriving too late
But Ive done a bit of smugglin, Ive run my share of grass
Made enough money to buy miami, but I pissed it away so fast
Never meant to last, never meant to last
I have been drunk now for over two weeks,
Passed out and I rallied and I sprung a few leaks
But Ive got stop wishin, got to go fishin
Im down to rock bottom again
Just a few friends, just a few friends
"nice to see all of our friends every year. thank you
Friends."
Now I go for younger women, lived with several awhile
Though I ran em away, theyd come back one day
And I still could manage a smile
Sure takes a while, just takes a while
Mother, mother ocean, after all my years Ive found
Occupational hazard being my occupations just not around
Feel like Ive drowned, but I wont wear a frown
Feel like Ive drowned, Im gonna go check out
Peachtree street somewhere downtown
