William Topley
Hurricane Room
Oh angel baby I tell you what is on your mindA dealer running down the coastAnd it's coming on to leaving timeUnload in Alabama and we're sailing on to St. GilesI'm hitching on a wave on the weatherOn a seabird's smileBad August on the moon kicking up the wind and rainThe wells hit 30 feetSteal the balance from my brainThe Captain and his crewAre cut-throats down in the Port of SpainWhite-knuckled at the rainsHis timbers wail in shameSee me wistful in some harbour barI tend the warm glass and the duelling scarI sing my misappropriation song for lovers land-lockedFar too longOh angel baby I, lapping on a blue romance for cargoAnd by compass with a serpent's tail in chanceThrough the forties and the Trades and a cutlass raised in rageJust for cotton and tobaccoFor whiskey and for gageTake the whip to drive the sugar trainA scent plantation and banana rainSongtexteI sing my misappropriation song for lovers land-lockedFar too longHit itOh come inside the hurricane roomOh come inside the hurricane roomOh come inside the hurricane roomAngel baby you're my hurricane roomAngel baby you're my hurricane room
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