I’ve nowhere to go; I’m on the ocean.
So this cruise really blows—that’s my emotion.

Off this boat, yeah, it’s off that I’m cravin’.
Off this boat…wish this trip were over.
Off this boat; to get out, I can’t wait…
off this boat.

Not too long after this doomed cruise began,
my stateroom’s the place I became stuck in.
So now all I can do is stare out at the sea.
I cannot wait for the day that I am free.

I’m not loving this trip on the ocean,
despite all efforts I was unable to Covid-shun.

I’ve nowhere to go; the only motion’s
in my fevered brain…contemplate Viking-vandal notions.

Off this boat, yeah, off this boat—hate it.
Off this boat…wish this trip were over.
Off this boat; to vacate, I’m chafing.
Off this boat.

Now this sailing event is a bore;
just call me Typhoid Mary; I can’t go ashore.
Can’t walk any lengths; can’t talk to the crew;
my thought adrift; I feel like shit; my wish: Bid ship “Adieu!”

I think I’ll start to cause a commotion
and smash tables and chairs to demonstrate my emotion.

Junk this boat—my stateroom, I’ll waste it.
Junk this boat…turn everything over.

Off they tote me to prison…jail me.
Gone, the boat.