As the son of a son of a sailor,
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I went out on the sea for adventure,
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Expanding their view of the captain and crew
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Like a man just released from indenture.
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As a dreamer of dreams and a travelin' man,
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I have chalked up many a mile.
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Read dozens of books about heroes and crooks,
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And I've learned much from both of their styles.
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Son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor.
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Son of a gun; load the last ton
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One step ahead of the jailer.
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Now away in the near future, southeast of disorder,
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You can shake the hand of the mango man
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As he greets you at the border.
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And the lady she hails from Trinidad,
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Island of the spices.
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Salt for your meat and cinnamon sweet,
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And the rum is for all your good vices.
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Haul the sheet in as we ride on the wind that our
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Forefathers harnessed before us.
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Hear the bells ring as the tide rigging sings.
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It's a son of a gun of a chorus.
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Where it all ends I can't fathom, my friends.
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If I knew, I might toss out my anchor.
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So I'll cruise along always searchin' for songs,
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Not a lawyer, a thief or a banker.
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But a son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor.
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Son of a gun, load the last ton
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One step ahead of the jailer
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I'm just a son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor
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The sea's in my veins, my tradition remains.
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I'm just glad I don't live in a trailer.
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Son Of A Son Of A Sailor
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| Jimmy Buffett |
