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It's this microphone, it's cutting me out
I've got shit to say but the only way is to shout

God is stifling the atmosphere so hot
We've cried for days and now our voices are shot
There's too much of this and too little of that
It'll happen more so than we thought

When we looked back, the tide was receding
It's a hook that we could not believe it

The shoreline is filled up to the brim
Cause the tally sheet had check marks round the rim

Don't you care that it's coming between us
That damn cook shack determines our freedom

There's a curse on the women in the sea
I won't have that but the ocean, it's so big

I'm a poor man but at least I know what to do