Needy generator

I set fire to a way of living
That I never want to live no more
I put down the Bible for a lady and a bottle
And I feel a lot less like a whore

A rusted hammer and a needy generator
Greet me when I awake every morning
I play deckhand for the Captain Langley
As we recover the boat from the mooring

And when the weather’s on
I can hardly wait
I know I’m not the only one
Who feels at home on the wild waves

They sink they’re teeth into my spine
Intoxicated on the brine
You’d swear the water tastes like wine
Where I’ll be floating all the time

Fare you well my ladies
Fare you well land lovers