The ship of fools is coming in Take me off I've got to eat Same old stories same old thing Letting out and pulling in
Mister, there's a caravan parked out back Restless hoping for a christian rider The black book, a grappling hook A hangman's noose on a burnt out tree Guess we must be getting close to tombstone
The last time we had eaten Was when the flies were going for free You could count the hardships by the open doors But sandwiched in between Were the fishermen who still Wished they could sail from tenessee to arizona
So hold on, won't be long The call is on the line Hold on, sister's gone South to give the sign
We picked up dracula in memphis It was just about the break of day And then hastily prayed for out souls to be saved There was something in the air that made us kind of weary
By the time we got to swansea it was getting dark Tumble, jungles, bugles and the prize The tides turned west at amerforth As if they didn't know what to do But garnant stood it's ground and asked for more
All the people seemed quite glad to see us Shaking hands and smiling like the clock Well we gave them all the message then That the ship of fools was in Make sure they get home for christmas
So hold on, won't be long The call is on the line So hold on, sister's gone South to give the sign
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