Cabin Fever
The Captain's fore-arm like bunched-up ropewith A-N-I-T-A wrigglin' free on a skull'n'daggerand a portrait of Christ, nailed to an anchoretched into his upper...
O o o' Cabin Fever!O o o' Cabin Fever!Slams his fucken tin-dish downOur Captain, takes time to crushSome Bloo-Bottles glowin in his gruelwith a lump in his throat, and lumpy mushThumbing a scrapbook stuck up with clagand a morbid lump of Love in his flags.Done is the Kissing, now all that remainIs to sail forever, upon the stainCabin Fever! O o o' Cabin Fever!
The captain's free-hand is a cleaverwhich he rations his beard, n' he fashions his jerkey!and carves his peg outa the finest mahagony!Or was it Ebony?Yeah, it was ebonyThe blackest ebony
Tallies up his loneliness, notch by notchFor the sea offers nuthin to hold or touchNotch by notch, winter by winterNotch x notch, winter x winter
Now his leg is whittled, right down to a splinterO o Cabin Fever! O o o Cabin Fever!O the rollin sea still rollin on!She's everywhere! now that she's gone! Gone! Gone!O Cabin Fever! O Cabin Fever!
Welcome to his table, Beloved-UnconsciousRaisin her host of hair from her crooksand strugglin to summony one of her looks!His arm now like coiled s-s-s-snakesWhips all the bottles that he's drunken,like crystal - skittles about the cabin,of a ship they'd been sailingFive years sunken...