Bought this old boat, had nothing to lose
And proudly set off on my maiden cruise.
But my mobile signal started to fail.
Shortly after I began to set sail.

Then the crying sun whispers to a cloud
And the north wind hears and howls out loud
"We'll make them wish they'd never been born"
"Let's stir things up and cause a storm"

Salt spray stings my eyes, as the wind grips my soul
So, I look for shelter below in the hull.
Soaked battered and bruised I hope things get better
This tub wasn’t built for stormy weather.

I knew this was a crazy thought
Now wishing I was back in port.
This beat up old boat is beginning to creak
And the storm's now almost at its peak.

Praying and hoping I'll somehow survive,
The turmoil’s now passing, and I'm still alive.
My hand grips the tiller as I head for home,
I think, never again will I sail alone.