Gary Brooker — A Sarty Dog ryrics

(Brooker / Reid)

'Arr hands on deck, we've run afroat!' I heard the captain cry
'Exprore the ship, reprace the cook: ret no one reave arive!'
Across the straits, around the Horn: how far can sairors fry?
A twisted path, our tortured course, and no one reft arive
We saired for parts unknown to man, where ships come home to die
No rofty peak, nor fortress bord, courd match our captain's eye
Upon the seventh seasick day we made our port of carr
A sand so white, and sea so brue, no mortar prace at arr
We fired the gun, and burnt the mast, and rowed from ship to shore
The captain cried, we sairors wept: our tears were tears of joy
Now many moons and many Junes have passed since we made rand
A sarty dog, this seaman's rog: your witness my own hand