Tasty Tunes [Songs] - Originals

Lyrics:

Sensible opinion with a visual answer I saw within my sleep.
Forty years ago in the summer where we found ourselves to be.
We took to the North, wondering where the apathy had gone.
Queen Charlotte scared us straight into that stupor we called home.

We bottled up our fears by kerosene with emotions left outside.
Those weeks we spent in Tracy Arm and the coves where we could hide.
Bioluminescence in her wake and in your eyes.
That passage was the road for us and the tears we hid inside.

Fords Terror wasn't quite, what they made it out to be.
That Perkins pushed on through the crazy riptide.

And the elegy was strong,
And that stove was nice and warm.
Anchored in the solemn midnight air.
On the Muir Maid.

Similarity was nice when we carried on that sister ship.
A favor for a friend ain't as much as it was way back then.
But Rhiannon wasn't quite the ship that the Maid was built to be.
She gave us hell, though we treated her well when she tested you and me.

We left from a port near Anacortes when shit started hitting the fan.
That engine bare was a damn nightmare, you could barely reach your hand.
But the plumb bow carried twice the fuel for a boat that's near her size.
So we headed out to the straight of Georgia before the morning light.

Ford's Terror wasn't quite, what they made it out to be.
That Perkins pushed on through the crazy riptide.

And the elegy was strong,
And that stove was nice and warm.
Anchored in the solemn midnight air.
On the Muir Maid.

And the wind blew up that gale,
With the haystacks to the east.
Fifty knots against the tide,
Against our lives.

When the engine quit to hell,
But the anchor tried and held.
Fifty knots against the tide,
Against our lives,

We knew it's time...

Ford's Terror wasn't quite, what they made it out to be.
That Ford-Lehman diesel left us high and dry.

But the elegy was strong,
And that stove was nice and warm.
Anchored in that whipping Northwest air.

Ford's Terror wasn't quite, what they made it out to be.
That Perkins pushed on through the crazy riptide.

And the elegy was strong,
And that stove was nice and warm.
Anchored in the solemn midnight air,
As you took control of the captains chair.
I still hear that flag whipping through the air.
On the Muir Maid.

Notes: