To sail the Seven Seas
And still remain benighted
Is something that concerns me quite.
I'd rather be a vagabond
Delighted
To have in my possession gleeful light
Than drink from bowls of gold
And eat off plates of china...
I'd rather not have heart of cold,
I'd wander bare as Godiva.

The rich, those lucky fools, I pity.
They know not what is right and what is wrong.
Their minds, by gluttony made gritty,
Will never to the side of good belong.

My choice is simple: to fight evil.
My fate is clear: to carry light,
To peaceful harbours fancy ships to steer,
To sleepy babies sweetly say good night.