salt fare north sea

Roll on, roll off
With these words I drown
Topmast secured
Hatches battened down

Sometimes I think
It must be different on land
But from the mast I can only see tyrants
Still in command

I’m wasting time
That I can’t afford
I know I’d die on the gallows
Before I’d die of being bored

Drifting along, drifting along