The ship of fools is coming in

Take me off I've got to eat

Same old stories, same old thing

Letting out and pulling in Mister, there's a caravan parked out back

Restless hoping for a Christian rider

The black book, a grappling hook

A hangman's noose on a burnt out tree

Guess we must be getting close to Tombstone The last time we had eaten was when the flies were going for free

You could count the hardships by the open doors

But sandwiched in between were the fishermen who still

Wished they could sail from Tennessee to Arizona So hold on, won't be long

The call is on the line

Hold on, sister's gone

South to give the sign We picked up Dracula in Memphis

It was just about the break of day

And then hastily prayed for out souls to be saved

There was something in the air that made us kind of weary By the time we got to Swansea, it was getting dark

Tumble, jungles, bugles and the prize

The tides turned west at Amerforth

As if they didn't know what to do

But Garnant stood its ground and asked for more All the people seemed quite glad to see us

Shaking hands and smiling like the clock

Well, we gave them all the message then

That the ship of fools was in

Make sure they get home for Christmas So hold on, won't be long

The call is on the line

So hold on, sister's gone

South to give the sign