In a world torn asunder,
I'm simply here to pillage and plunder.
I sail the blue and ride the high seas,
And move along on an ocean breeze.
Salt may move through my veins,
As women try to tie me down to these shipping lanes.
But my heart is meant to go far,
And my mouth is meant to find the next bar.
For in a world of insanity,
Little does the man good who is consumed with vanity.
So, I'll toil, and boil, and make myself trouble,
As I sit here on the edge of this bubble.
I'll watch the to and fro,
And see too many good men go.
They go down the path that has no pillage in plunder,
In a world that is torn asunder.
They leave me here, holding dear,
To the idea that may be so close, so near.
That I could open my eyes, and no longer roam,
And find a port to call my home.