With wagging tongues as rudders
And flapping lips at full sail
One way or another
We find we're flailing in kelp

Battered bodies ready for mutiny
Weather worn, severely beat
Kind of makes you wonder
Who is steering this thing

Pass around the Dramamine
I think we're going to be sick
You'd think by now that we somehow
Would be used to it

Before too late what will be our fate
Is the entire crew walking the plank
Kind of makes you wonder
Who is steering this thing

It's hard enough to control the tongue
Continuously pounded by waves
Feeling sunk long before we're done
With planning our one escape

We most of the time try to do what's right
But fail at it miserably
Kind of makes you wonder
Who is steering this thing