Son of a son, son of a son, son of a son of a sailor. Son of a gun; load the last ton, One step ahead of the jailer. - Jimmy Buffett

I really do appreciate the fact you're sittin' here.
Your voice sounds so wonderful,
But your face don't look too clear.
So, Barmaid, bring a pitcher, another round of brew.
Honey, why don't we get drunk and screw.

These changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes,
Nothing remains quite the same.
Through all of the islands and all of the highlands,
If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane.

Now, I don't know,
I don't know where I'm a gonna go
When the volcano blow.