A girl what's born for hangin' ain't likely to be drowned.

The sun in on the harbor, love, And I wish I could remain, For I know it will be some long, long time, Before I see you again.

A girl what's born for hangin' ain't likely to be drowned.

We clear the harbor and the wind catches her sails and my beautiful ship leans over ever so gracefully, and her elegant bow cuts cleanly into the increasing chop of the waves. I take a deep breath and my chest expands and my heart starts thumping so strongly I fear the others might see it beat through the cloth of my jacket. I face the wind and my lips peel back from my teeth in a grin of pure joy.

Well,' I shrug, all innocent, 'we all ride our little hobbyhorses, don't we, Mr. Peel?

You've got to think of the fine times you had with your mate, not the moment of his perishin'. Every tear you shed now only wets his windin' sheet and disturbs his rest

But surely we are not allowed..." "Allowed?" I counters. "We're allowed to do anything in this world until someone says we ain't allowed and that someone can back it up.