Maybe you wonder
What I do
After I kiss you goodbye
Every morning
I’ve never told you
Have I
Oh I know you think
You know what I do
I work.
But just between you and me
That isn’t exactly true

You see I’m not
A working man at all
I’m a Captain
Of a paper boat called life
And every morning
When I hear the screen door fall
I set sail
On a sea of lonely hours
Through a storm
Of trouble and strife.
Wash the dishes
And I crashing through
A school of hungry fishes
Clean the floor
And I’m charting courses
Where ever Cook hasn’t been before
Darn a sock
And I’m battening down the hatches
To meet the waves
Of some little boy’s rock

And later
With the smell of dinner
Cooking on the stove
I’m standing spread-legged
On the Quarter mast
Giving every oarsman
A roaring heave-ho
The storm’s behind
The world isn’t flat
The car lights bounce
From a white picket fence shine
And the Captain’s over the side
Home again
To his Warm Harbor place to hide