S / Syryn / Three Sheets to the Wind
You wake up in the morning And you’re still fucking drunk You roll out of your bed And you go to get some grub
You stagger to the tavern And you rustle for a beer You take a look around But you see the ship is bare
From the bow to stern The ballast, helm, and keel Only one matey in sight from the ship To the frontier
You meet up with your comrade And try to figure a plan You’re both in agreement That a drink would be fucking grand
(Bridge) No one in sight… Aye! Let’s get drunk! So much booze and You to drink it
(Chorus) You drink a shot of Whiskey And you drink a shot of Rum You drink a shot of Brandy
Then you drink some more fucking Rum! And then you’re
THREE... SHEETS... TO THE WIND THREE... SHEETS... TO THE WIND
Now you’re drunk again. And senses aren't quite clear Deserted on a ship. With Barely any beer
It’s one for all not all for one You’re fending for yourself Throw him overboard And drink everything on the shelf
Your fists are in the air And you’re ready for a fight Your vision is quite blurred And you stumble left to right
Your drunken aim is shit You swing and you miss your mark You both fly overboard Into the jaws of a shark
(Bridge) No one in sight… Aye! You got drunk! Fought your matey Now dead at Sea
(Chorus) You drank a shot of whiskey And you drank a shot of Rum You drank a shot of Brandy Then you drank all the fucking Rum
AND THEN YOU WERE THREE... SHEETS... TO THE WIND YOU WERE THREE... SHEETS... TO THE WIND
THREE... SHEETS... TO THE WIND
THREE... SHEETS... TO THE WIND
WHERE THE FUCK IS MY PARROT
THREE... SHEETS... TO THE WIND
BUT WHY IS THE RUM GONE?!?!
THREE... SHEETS... TO THE WIND
DOWN TO DAVEY’S LOCKER WITH YA, YA SCURVY BASTARD
I’LL SEE YA THERE! Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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