Sweet Anabelle
As seen reclining on an ocean swell
As the Waves do lather up
and lay her down
'til she's fast and sleeping
Oh well
I guess I'm something of a neer-do-well
who fell asleep at the pealing of the steeple bell

I'm on track and keeping but oh
If I could only get you ocean side
stretch your muscles wide
it'd be heavenly
And Oh
If I could only coax you overboard
to leave these lolling shores
and get you oceanside.

At Rising tide
You're looking fresher than a July bride
We're picking up what our mothers always stigmatized.
The field is right or reaping
Oh well
I guess I'm nothing but a neer-do-well
(Even though that's something I could never do well)
I'm on track and keeping.