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Al Duvall - Admiral Of The Narrow Seas Lyrics

Me, myself, and a mutual friend
Met a troll with a magical bean
We climbed the vine all the way to the end
Where we were met by the dominant Gene
They say that truth is a Shep with no tongue
His butcher's meat comes from mythical herds
We set up shop with a portable lung
And collected songs from dissected birds

Your ship is in a bottle
And the rocks are on your lees
Surrender to the admiral, dear
Of thе narrow seas

"My form could knock the Pope off his mulе,"
The mason spake to the drum majorette
I quench my thirst with a bucket of fuel
And roll a gunpowder cigarette
Mocked by crows, the purveyer of woe
Proclaimed that Rome wasn't burnt in a day
Pump those bellows, there's horses in tow
And fill the sills on our wagon of hay

Your ship is in a bottle
And the rocks are on your lees
Surrender to the admiral, dear
Of the narrow seas
Give me a root beer, and hold the root
I'm now prepared to pickle my tripe
I fairly lost a domestic dispute
Over gravestone rubbings and an opium pipe
Serpents strike at the ankles and shins
But nothing slows the Mummers' parade
They limp along with their hideous grins
Their feathered robes still proudly displayed

Your ship is in a bottle
And the rocks are on your lees
Surrender to the admiral, dear
Of the narrow seas
Your ship is in a bottle
And the rocks are on your lees
Surrender to the admiral, dear
Of the narrow seas