I heard you yelling loud,
all the way from the prow
You've been searching the horizon
and that storm looks pretty foul
So you turn around and sail us back towards port
The weather's getting rough
The tiny ship is tossed
It said right in the brochure
This is a quick three hour tour,
So don't say that I'm stranded 'til they rescue me

No time to batten hatches down
And I hope we all don't drown
When we run aground

We washed up on this shore
And started to explore
Built some huts, ate coconuts, gazed at Ginger and Mary Ann's butts,
and tried to flag me down some passing planes and ships
The Skipper's pretty gruff
And curiously enough
Well, his first mate's now his bunk mate, one might say
his cabin boy,
You can't think nothing happens in their hut
at night

I hope they search the world around
But you know we won't be found
When we run aground
When we run aground

I hope they search the world around
But you know we won't be found
When we run aground
When we run aground
When we run aground
When we run aground