Sometimes I feel like Fletcher Christian
Staring out across the sea
Torn apart by duty's shackles
The twisted tongues of loyalty
Well I sucked hard on every pleasure
Till my head began to spin
He'll choose between the whip and feather
And that is where his crimes begin
Sometimes I feel like Fletcher Christian
In paradise with the tables turned
Yes, and I can feel the tattooist's needle
I feel my neck and ankles burn
Those South Sea isles are cold and barren
But this civil war's been good to me
Well, we took drugs and tore our uniforms
And gave our captain up to the sea
Sometimes I feel like Fletcher Christian
Twisting off the serpent's head
For the mutiny, I'll shoot the big one
Hot and hungry, far from home
Through the sun and sea, my skin is peeling
But it don't make the pictures fade
Those shapes and symbols, I know their meaning
The shameless riches from another world
If I return, they're sure to hang me
So I guess, I'll have to stay
And if I should croak out in the darkness
No one will know I've gone away.