November 2005
This is my first attempt at a drinking song. I’m not entirely sure how this idea came around, but I managed to write almost all of it on the CTA going home for Thanksgiving.
Protect me, Saint Elmo, though I am no sailor
I’m running on seaweed and fumes
And I’m in no navy but that’s not important
I’ve no one to turn to but you
Protect me, Saint Elmo, I’m drowning
I’m drowning my troubles in booze
I’m up to my eyeballs in cheap gin and vodka
If you won’t help drink it, I’m through
Protect me, Saint Elmo, a sailor
For the deck is a-heaving and swaying
I know I’m not shipboard but I’m getting seasick
It’s making a mess of my brain
Protect me, Saint Elmo, though I am no sailor
I’m sure that you’re wondering why
There’s nobody else who can help with my problem
I can’t seem to keep myself dry.
Protect me, Saint Elmo, a traveler
My compass is guiding me stray
My sea-legs are presently rather unstable
And the bartender says I can’t stay
Protect me, Saint Elmo, I’m grounded
I’m beached on the side of the street
What I mean to say is I’m stuck in a gutter
And the liquor has capsized my feet
Protect me, Saint Elmo, though I am no sailor
Just heed this poor vagabond’s cry
I’ll shiver my timbers and batten my hatches
If that’s what it takes to get by
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