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We're sailors at a fashion show,
The catwalk is our tide,
We're driven by an age old quest,
What's on the other side.
There could be dragons, pots of gold and women by the score,
I heard a whisper in the wind, soon after "all aboard!"
To take control of the ocean,
You've got to take control of this boat,
You've got all kinds of elaborate travel plans,
We just want to float.
We live a life of metaphors,
with skeletons and skulls,
None of us have perfect teeth,
we've all got perfect balls .
And underneath the fashion scene they shrivel to the touch,
That's why we search for warmer lands where clothes don't count that much.
To take control of the ocean,
You've got to take control of this boat,
You've got all kinds of elaborate travel plans,
We just want to float.
It's nothing at all like the golden days the captain is losing control,
men on emotional oceans, busy comparing their clothes.
We're sailors at a fashion show,
With Champagne Viking blood,
You're men on emotional oceans,
Don't drag us through the mud.
To take control of the ocean,
You've got to take control of this boat,
You've got all kinds of elaborate travel plans,
We just want to float.
