Every man has a story, maybe this is mine, bottled in a mystery Thirteenth of a dozen, a man left behind, workin’ for the company Never punchin’ my ticket, punchin’ the clock No fisherman or captain could I be Never called when my vessel pulled out from the dock But don’t feel sorry for me
I am building a boat, building an ocean, waitin’ for the rising tide With my sailor’s rope my right hand of hope To pull me over the side, I am building a boat
Every game I tried, was rigged from inside I fell for every scheme like a fool I bit on every line for a nickel and dime By every mother’s thug I was schooled In my backwater town where brimstone rained down And the river backs up from the sea I could only dream one day I would leave But don’t feel sorry for me
I am building a boat, building an ocean, waitin’ for the rising tide With my sailor’s rope my right hand of hope To pull me over the side, I am building a boat
I learned a trick or two, I finally got a clue Worth two to one from all I left behind I never kissed the maid when I could kiss the mistress No moonshine when I could drink the wine Now I’m cook I am captain, a bo’sun and a mate A navigator lookout and a crew The wind and the waves will now be my fate With my very own sailing boat tattoo
I am building a boat, building an ocean, waitin’ for the rising tide With my sailor’s rope my right hand of hope To pull me over the side, I am building a boat