Heave ho! Farewell to the quay! Merry sailors, sailors we The horizon is our proscenium, our dead will come to know the sea Our cook is a wanted man, 1000 thalers for each hand Our captain lost his good sense, driven by a Lazarus words Have you not been told of Lazarus? He felt the icy grip Brought back by a morphine drip, he told the captain this Tragedy! Tragedy! Death has you fooled! No throne of bone, no terranean pool No scythe, no cowl, no skeletons His greatest trophy is this myth! Every sailor, salmon, every carp Will follow rivers to the source Only the dead will know the course Do you want to know of the afterworld?
sailor, lazarus, captain, tragedy, terranean