The most expensive of all was time
Not to be toyed with
We left the sands and sailed on
There were different faces aboard
Cheering, drinking and puffing smokes see
Ladies, giggling, dancing and holding the doors
Men frowning, lusting and carried away
I in my khaki shorts sitting pale
With heads on my portmotor
And cold hot waters pouring from my eye
I was lost and heading for nowhere
I knew no one and I was going to live long
I had lost, my accent sold me
I had nothing at home and abroad
The rains had showed me how long her rope was
Many dropped at several ports while we journeyed
But I remain on the coast lost, pained, clueless
With a pack of worrisome emotions
When I get to nowhere that I might alight
A short man in khaki who is lost.
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