My Island, My HomeHow many people own their own boat?My Island, My Home by Serfent
I do, I swear it's made out of wood,
and barely can float.
But hell I could care less if it stood
in a moat.
Now with this boat, you may have guessed,
I sail around toward the West.
And then I see I must be blessed,
the island at the end of my quest.
Or so says my note.
On this island I guess I'll stay
to dodge the things I tend to hate.
Evading things that brought dismay
like being accused of being late.
Or so I hope.
Two months have passed,
I'm having fun.
I've forgotten the past,
and found I love the sun.
Or so I thought
I miss my friends,
I miss my life,
I miss the trends
that end in strife.
I'll load my boat.
As I sail away from my island
I wave goodbye and shed a tear.
Until it fades into a highland
it was a sight most queer.
Returning to my life, my island,