The ship of fools is coming in   Take me off I've got to eat   Same old stories, same old thing   Letting out and pulling in      Mister, there's a caravan parked out back   Restless hoping for a Christian rider   The black book, a grappling hook   A hangman's noose on a burnt out tree   Guess we must be getting close to Tombstone      The last time we had eaten was when the flies were going for free   You could count the hardships by the open doors   But sandwiched in between were the fishermen who still   Wished they could sail from Tennessee to Arizona      So hold on, won't be long   The call is on the line   Hold on, sister's gone   South to give the sign      We picked up Dracula in Memphis   It was just about the break of day   And then hastily prayed for out souls to be saved   There was something in the air that made us kind of weary      By the time we got to Swansea, it was getting dark   Tumble, jungles, bugles and the prize   The tides turned west at Amerforth   As if they didn't know what to do   But Garnant stood its ground and asked for more      All the people seemed quite glad to see us   Shaking hands and smiling like the clock   Well, we gave them all the message then   That the ship of fools was in   Make sure they get home for Christmas      So hold on, won't be long   The call is on the line   So hold on, sister's gone   South to give the sign