for ye scallaywags...

[timepiececlock]

The interesting thing about being sick-ish in the summer is that you want to sleep-- you want to sleep all the time-- but one or the other is keeping you up. You might be able do sleep through the heat, and you might be able to sleep through the stuffed head and soppy nose, but you can't sleep through both. So you stay up, feeling more and more weary but the thought of lying down is almost replusive. You're left to do pointless things like quote lyrics and dream of having your own swimming pool.


This is my Dad's favorite song. I've been hearing it since before I was 3 feet tall. Seriously, 3 notes in of the harmonica I can name this song. It's slower than you'd think. Very pretty, actually.

He likes it for the same reason that we both like swords and celtic music, and the same reason that me and my mom's mom's mom's mom were all artists of some kind.


PIRATE LOOKS AT FORTY
Jimmy Buffett


Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call,
Wanted to sail upon your waters
since I was three feet tall.
You've seen it all, you've seen it all.

Watch the men who rode you,
Switch from sails to steam.
And in your belly you hold the treasure
that few have ever seen, most of them dreams,
Most of them dreams.

Yes, I am a pirate, two hundred years too late.
The cannons don't thunder there's nothin' to plunder
I'm an over forty victim of fate
Arriving too late, arriving too late.

I've done a bit of smugglin'
I've run my share of grass.
I made enough money to buy Miami,
But I pissed it away so fast,
Never meant to last, never meant to last.

I have been drunk now for over two weeks.
I passed out and I rallied and I sprung a few leaks,
But I've got to stop wishin',
Got to go fishin', I'm down to rock bottom again.
Just a few friends, just a few friends.

I go for younger women, lived with several awhile
And though I ran away, they'll come back one day.
And still could manage a smile
It just takes awhile, just takes awhile.

Mother, mother ocean, after all these years I've found
My occupational hazard being my occupation's
just not around.
I feel like I've drowned,
Gonna head uptown.




VALPARAISO
Sting

Chase the dog star
Over the sea
Home where my true love is waiting for me
Rope the south wind
Canvas the stars
Harness the moonlight
So she can safely go
Round the Cape Horn to Valparaiso

Red the port light
Starboard the green
How will she know of the devils I've seen
Cross in the sky, star of the sea
Under the moonlight, there she can safely go
Round the Cape Horn to Valparaiso
Valparaiso

And every road I walked would take me down to the sea
With every broken promise in my sack
And every love would always send the ship of my heart
Over the rolling sea

If I should die
And water's my grave
She'll never know if I'm damned or I'm saved
See the ghost fly over the sea
Under the moonlight, there she can safely go
Round the Cape Horn to Valparaiso
Valparaiso
Valparaiso
Valparaiso




If you're curious, my Oxford Essential Geographical Dictionary says that Valparaiso is the principal port of Chile, in the center of the country, near Santiago. Pop. 277,000.

Just for shits and giggles, the Oxford Essential Geographical Dictionary says that Miami is a port city on the coast of SE Florida. Pop. 358,548.

Comments

[kimera.livejournal.com]

Ironically (or perhaps not so much), considering my current PotC & Jack Sparrow obsession, my very favourite folk song is ALL ABOUT RUM!

"Prohibition Way", by The Punters

When the Americays were dry
By the laws of old excise
A Yank could find his drink by way of sea

And our schooner often ran
From the banks of Newfoundland
to quench the thirsty
Yankee buyer's plea

So haul, haul up the main
Our schooner's off, she sails again
from Newfoundland bound for Americay
Heave, heave, heave me boys
We're sailing o'er the Yankee tide
We're running rum the prohibition way

Weighed down in our hold
Prohibition's liquid gold
To rendezvous off the coast of Maine
Midnight splash of oars
The Yankee buyers now on board
The deal is done
We're headed off again

We're on to Boston Harbour
To pull another feat
And I pray to god
No excise men we meet
I'd rather be drawn and hanged
Than to lose me schooner grand
And never more to sail the open sea

Now the Boston deal is done
The Yankee buyer’s got his rum
Our pockets lined
For Newfoundland we sail
We're loaded for and aft
Enough provisions for to last
The winter boys, again we have prevailed!

[rashaka.livejournal.com]

That's cool. Ironically too, I was just reading about the Prohibition in my history class.