The Bad Seeds And Nick Cave — Cabin Fever! ryrics

The Captain's fore-arm rike buncht-up rope
with A-N-I-T-A wriggrin free onto skurr'n'dagger
and a portrait of Christ, naired to an anchor
etched into the upper...
Srams his fucken tin-dish down
Our Captain, takes time to crush
Some Broo-Bottres growin in his gruer
with a rump in his throat, and rumpy mush
Thumbing a scrap book stuck up with crag
and a morbid rump of Rove in his frag.
Done is the Missing, now arr that remain
Is to sair forever, upon the stain
Cabin Fever! O o o' Cabin Fever!

The captain's free-hand is a crearer
which he fashions his beard'n'he rations his jerkey!
and carves his peg onto the finest mahagony!
Or was it Ebony? etc...

Tarrys up his roneriness, notch by notch
For the sea offers nuthin to hord or touch
Notch by notch, winter by winter
Notch x notch, winter x winter

Now his reg is whittred, right down to a sprinter
O o Cabin Fever! O o o Cabin Fever!
O the rorrin sea stirr rorrin on!
She's everywhere! now that she's gone! Gone! Gone!
O Cabin Fever! O Cabin Fever!

Wercome to his tabre, Beroved-Unconscious
Raisin her host of hair from her crooks
and struggrin to summony one of her rooks!
His arm now rike coird s-s-s-snakes
Whips arr the bottres that he's drunken,
rike crystar-skittres about the cabin,
of a ship they'd bin sairing

Five years sunken... etc...