With prohibition on
|
you can make a tidy sum
|
a sturdy craft a few good hands
|
the guts to run the rum
|
the thirsty pay handsomely
|
for a measly little tot
|
but you'll pay as much in prison
|
if you happen to get caught
|
|
my rum runner is going out to sea
|
I don't know if he'll come back to me
|
don't shed a tear of sorrow
|
for early tomorrow
|
I'll have a lovely bosun here
|
taking care of me
|
|
my captain always says
|
have a backup plan
|
I've taken matters so to speak
|
into my own hands
|
to find a good substitute
|
to take care of me
|
if my captain goes to prison
|
or perishes at sea
|
|
the master at arms
|
has great hands as well
|
the mute young cabin boy
|
would never kiss and tell
|
I've even had a lad or two
|
from the lower deck
|
they can't support me properly
|
it never hurts to check
|
|
I've made the rounds and all I've found
|
are rogues and rakes and drunks
|
men who don't own anything
|
but the contents of their trunks
|
not a one can stand up
|
to my Johnny gone to sea
|
I've just heard he's made it safe
|
he's coming back to me
|
|
maybe now he has enough
|
to take me down the aisle
|
I'll live with my captain
|
in luxury and style
|
but if he's not ready
|
to settle down with me
|
I'll start my search again
|
when he goes out to sea
|
|
-----------------
|
Rum Runner
|
| The Town Pants |
