The ocean calls me
And I turn a deaf ear,
For being out to sea
I don't want to hear.
My life is just fine
Here on dry land.
The call I don't pine
Nor I understand.
I don't like the pond
Nor being frequent from home.
I'm also not fond
Of greeting sea foam.
To hell with the sea!
I don't like this hob.
This life's not for me;
I NEED A NEW JOB!
I can't be secure,
While I am away,
Nor be true and sure
That my girlfriend won't play.
So be it small child.
I'll keep you no longer.
I must stay here all riled
Until I am stronger.
