The Captain's fore-arm like buncht-up ropewith A-N-I-T-A wrigglin free onto skull'n'daggerand a portrait of Christ, nailed to an anchoretched into the upper...Slams his fucken tin-dish downOur Captain, takes time to crushSome Bloo-Bottles glowin in his gruelwith a lump in his throat, and lumpy mushThumbing a scrap book stuck up with clagand a morbid lump of Love in his flag.Done is the Missing, now all that remainIs to sail forever, upon the stainCabin Fever! O o o' Cabin Fever!The captain's free-hand is a clearerwhich he fashions his beard'n'he rations his jerkey!and carves his peg onto the finest mahagony!Or was it Ebony? etc...Tallys up his loneliness, notch by notchFor the sea offers nuthin to hold or touchNotch by notch, winter by winterNotch x notch, winter x winterNow his leg is whittled, right down to a splinterO o Cabin Fever! O o o Cabin Fever!O the rollin sea still rollin on!She's everywhere! now that she's gone! Gone! Gone!O Cabin Fever! O Cabin Fever!Welcome to his table, Beloved-UnconsciousRaisin her host of hair from her crooksand strugglin to summony one of her looks!His arm now like coild s-s-s-snakesWhips all the bottles that he's drunken,like crystal-skittles about the cabin,of a ship they'd bin sailingFive years sunken... etc..