| We, we will dance like tiny boats with cotton sails
|
| Upon the tops of the seas
|
| That would pull us down to depths and crush us flat
|
| If given half a chance
|
| No need to look back
|
| To pictures of lost
|
| When all was rust
|
| We, we will skim across the surface of the mud
|
| As if we’re spinning pebbles
|
| Whoa, whoa, whoa!
|
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
|
| In our yacht dance, doo da dut doo da da dut
|
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
|
| In our yacht dance
|
| We, we will dance like tiny boats with cotton sails
|
| Upon the tops of the seas
|
| Made of people stained with scorn
|
| Who never see the light of real love
|
| No need to look back
|
| Through diaries of lost
|
| Now turned to dust
|
| We, we will skate across the surface of the storm
|
| As if we’re wheeling sea-birds
|
| Whoa, whoa, whoa!
|
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
|
| In our yacht dance, doo da dut doo da da dut
|
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
|
| In our yacht dance
|
| And how they’ll be jealous of both of us
|
| In our yacht dance
|
| We, we will dance like tiny boats with cotton sails
|
| Upon the, 'pon the tops of the sea
|
| Made of people stained with scorn
|
| Who never see the light of real love
|
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
|
| In our yacht dance, roo da dut doo da da dut
|
| Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho
|
| In our yacht dance |