John Cale
180426273.gif

The ship of fools is coming in
Take me off I've got to eat
Same old stories, same old thing
Letting out and pulling in

Mister, there's a caravan parked out back
Restless hoping for a Christian rider
The black book, a grappling hook
A hangman's noose on a burnt out tree
Guess we must be getting close to Tombstone

The last time we had eaten was when the flies were going for free
You could count the hardships by the open doors
But sandwiched in between were the fishermen who still
Wished they could sail from Tennessee to Arizona

So hold on, won't be long
The call is on the line
Hold on, sister's gone
South to give the sign

We picked up Dracula in Memphis
It was just about the break of day
And then hastily prayed for out souls to be saved
There was something in the air that made us kind of weary

By the time we got to Swansea, it was getting dark
Tumble, jungles, bugles and the prize
The tides turned west at Amerforth
As if they didn't know what to do
But Garnant stood its ground and asked for more

All the people seemed quite glad to see us
Shaking hands and smiling like the clock
Well, we gave them all the message then
That the ship of fools was in
Make sure they get home for Christmas

So hold on, won't be long
The call is on the line
So hold on, sister's gone
South to give the sign


Mirror lyrics:

South to give the sign
So hold on, sister's gone
The call is on the line
So hold on, won't be long

Make sure they get home for Christmas
That the ship of fools was in
Well, we gave them all the message then
Shaking hands and smiling like the clock
All the people seemed quite glad to see us

But Garnant stood its ground and asked for more
As if they didn't know what to do
The tides turned west at Amerforth
Tumble, jungles, bugles and the prize
By the time we got to Swansea, it was getting dark

There was something in the air that made us kind of weary
And then hastily prayed for out souls to be saved
It was just about the break of day
We picked up Dracula in Memphis

South to give the sign
Hold on, sister's gone
The call is on the line
So hold on, won't be long

Wished they could sail from Tennessee to Arizona
But sandwiched in between were the fishermen who still
You could count the hardships by the open doors
The last time we had eaten was when the flies were going for free

Guess we must be getting close to Tombstone
A hangman's noose on a burnt out tree
The black book, a grappling hook
Restless hoping for a Christian rider
Mister, there's a caravan parked out back

Letting out and pulling in
Same old stories, same old thing
Take me off I've got to eat
The ship of fools is coming in


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