Driftwood

Oh, come pity me, a poor mad sailor
stranded on this love
here I lie like driftwood, honey
is this what I've become?

I go high over
down under
at a lady's will
under you

At a lady's will
i'm drifting still
i'm drifting still

So I ask in fading innocence
and all my youthful rage
will your hands still touch me
when my face has fallen in with age?

And I go high over
down under
at a lady's will
under you

High over
down under
at a lady's will
under you

At a lady's will
i'm drifting still
i'm drifting still

High over
down under
at a lady's will

High over
down under
at a lady's will.