My First Born for a Song

My first born for a song
So take me to your king
My first born for a song
Somewhere in this froth and howling wind
And I will cross his palm

No navigation, global positioning
My first born for a song

My first born for a song
I'm in the crow's nest with binoculars
Keep the head down and I'll see you at the end
I've seen the flare so I know it's there
Has me tied up at a rate of knots
I hear he's the man to see
My first born for a song
Just me and this midnight oil

The air must be thick with words, but not between us
Shoulder to grindstone, switching to manual
I will cross his palm
Take me to your king
And I will cross his palm

There's something worth singing
And I will cross his palm

I will cross his palm
I hear he's the man to see
Between the phone calls and text messages
Just waiting for one to come along

My first born for a song
So take me to your king

My first born for a song

My first born for a song

My first born for a song
My first born for a song
But it's not happening, it's just Christmas up here
I hear he's the man to see
Climb into the attic to write me a classic
My first born for a song