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Inclinations of Vanity

Inclinations of Vanity
© 2005 George Reed

I was wandering ‘round in London town…
No copper for my troubles…
Until I rolled a wealthy chap and had my fortune doubled…

Then I met another man…
All dressed in merchant fine…
It wasn’t long ‘til all the threads he had worn were mine…

A ran tan, a rain tan, a ran tain tan…
Never be a stupid prat, ignoring fateful hands…
A ran tan, a rain tan, a ran tain tip…
Pull an oar if you’re inclined…I’d rather own the ship…

I thought to take a look inside…
The pouch the merchant left…
You can’t blame me for gaining what a scared man’s been bereft…

Inside the pouch were coins of gold…
and letters from a Lady…
Said I owned a ship with sails and deed to someplace shady…

A ran tan, a rain tan, a ran tain tan…
Never be a stupid prat, ignoring fateful hands…
A ran tan, a rain tan, a ran tain tip…
Pull an oar if you’re inclined…I’d rather own the ship…

I took myself a walk again…
And ended by the Docks…
And when I saw my friggin crew….I damn near lost me lochs…

One man had a hook for hand…
Another wore a patch…
Another threw a nasty knife at any who could catch…

‘twas time to reconsider then…
The ocean-going rub…
I took a look at my soft hands and went back to the pub!

A ran tan, a rain tan, a ran tain tan…
Fate may be a miracle but you could lose a hand…
A ran tan, a rain tan, a ran tain tip…
Pull an oar if you’re inclined…I’ll keep off the ship…

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