Wuthering Heights - The Mad Sailor

If this is the end, then what was it all worth? Don't bother to ask, there's no price on this earth 'Cause life's still a mystery You can't cost-benefit-analyse it And the hereafter's all in our minds Though we try to disguise it Still it shall be exciting to see the end of the show Abra-macabra, baby, here we go! "The Meaning of Life", well I don't really care Though this could be the last time we come up for air And maybe there's really no reason to stay Still I'll play you a shanty to brighten your day Quiet! When they pull the plug on this world all mechanic A dreamgig to play on the deck of this last Titanic I will dance on the gunwale, as the ship's going down I will write no solemn epitaphs For a world that's gone insane When there is no tomorrow, even then will I know That as long as the minstrels are playing All is not in vain Maybe the meaning was lost on the way Maybe we've anchored at the last bay But I will not lose spirit, though it may not be sound So crack open the barrels if we're really going down Riot! When the lights go out, law and order vanished They'll beg to be steered free By the mad sailor that they banished I will dance on the gunwale, as the ship's going down I will write no solemn epitaphs For a world that's gone insane When there is no tomorrow, even then will I know That as long as the minstrels are playing All is not in vain I will welcome the Gods in their chariots of war Stand up as they fire the first round I'll have peace of mind, when the new day will find Your carts and castles only dust on the ground And I'd be as dead as the rest and it would not mean a thing Misanthropoetica! Allow me this last fling Liar! Did they cry, freak, absurd and manic But when this ship turns upside down these rats will panic The weight of the world proved much too tough Just dragging myself along was more than enough But remember my words like marks from a whip This old salt will go down with his ship I will dance on the gunwale, as the ship's going down I will write no solemn epitaphs For a world that's gone insane I will dance on the gunwale, as the ship's going down I will write no solemn epitaphs For a world that's gone insane When there is no tomorrow, even then will I know That as long as the minstrels are playing All is not in vain