(verse 1)
Still scowling black Good Captain Clack
Must eat his humble pie
His bed is made the colors fade
His eyes once wet are dry
(verse 2)
And searches endlessly
(bridge)
See the naked jumberlack
Sip his aphrodisiac
Cotton picking farmers three
Though I lost my weathervane
And of sense I have one grain
I'm content sipping lemon tea
(instrumental break)
His eyes once wet are