What will you do with your craft?



The seaman was coaxed with an impressive breast stroke
At the site of her majesty's booty
Swimming really fast and coming in a blast
For a command performance of duty
While reaching for her chest she could not give her protest
To the advances on her box of jewl'ry
Going down so bold - coming up with the gold
Near the slip of ol' Sigmund Frued's dingy

Franticly he dove for her trinkets and trove
Going up and down in quick succession
Piercing deep to the depths with a thrusting forcep
Hoping to find her most precious diamond
He went to the gem over and over again
With a body built tougher than carbon
And over his curls was a string of pearls
That he had yet to spring on his woman

When a man at sea has let his mind go free
There's a mermaid singing out to him
And ev'ry sailor knows when the lonely winds blow
The cold often goes shooting right through him
His dreams are filled with the things life has instilled
And subject to his imagination
When his minds escapes he will stare and gape
And drift where there's no interpretation

And when he's ashore he might become a man-whore
Shooting some broad full of jism
Or he just may dance while making some romance
With the aid of euphemism
What he'd like to say may come out a different way
When the good ship Lollipop's sinking
So man the life boats and sow some wild oats
By the slip of ol' Sigmund Freud’s dinghy

Does a man really care for the love that God shares
When his wife takes his children and mut'ney's
Abandoning ship with an unscheduled trip
He may struggle to see the Lord's bounty
They may have split up and he's going overboard
He's surely hurt deep and bothered
Will a love remain despite the hurt and the pain
For the wife the son and the daughter

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar
Where the words of the great analyzer
So who's to say what, should constitute smut
The penthouse/playboy womanizers?
when anything goes, no one really knows
What they will be having for dinner
A plump chicken breast or a juicy rump roast
When gallies of good taste brim with sinners

On a rugged old cross all our sins were paid
In the Palestine province of Israel
The savior died to save everyone's life
And each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald
The question remains in the steerage of our brains
What is the best for me and my fam'ly?
Your vessel it's said is captained in your head
By the slip of ol' Sigmund Freud's dinghy