O' supper time was over
As we left the Pub and crossed the bay
When we saw a frightful sight
As the day turned into night
An invasion like none you've ever seen.
The sails fluttered with colours.
Boat captains, preppy clean.
Wearing Hawaiian print shirts,
Sandles, and dock shorts
T'was like a Yuppy Convention out at sea.
Thus sailed the Sailboat Armada
As the wind swept the salt breeze.
On the seven seas I've roamed,
And no worse terror I've known
Than 300 Yacht Club Members out at sea.
Five ships led the race to dry dock
Like America's Cup for the win.
When a bikini breasted lass
Stepped up to the mast
And was knocked down on her ass by the shifting wind.
I survived the Sailboat Armada
Ne'remore will I venture to sea.
On Memorial Day I paint yachts
For yuppies to hit rocks
As a silent war against rich conformity.
The FuMP
2009-05-15
Artist
Marc Gunn
Title
The Sailboat Armada
In 2005, I was driving on Long Island with my girlfriend and looked out into the bay to see a hundred sailboats floating in the water. I was trying to describe it when she came up with the perfect term--sailboat armada. It drew up images of a rousing sea shanty, and thus this song was born.
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