Hurricane Room

Oh angel baby I tell you what is on your mind

A dealer running down the coast

And it’s coming on to leaving time

Unload in Alabama and we’re sailing on to St. Giles

I’m hitching on a wave on the weather

On a seabird’s smile

Bad August on the moon kicking up the wind and rain

The wells hit 30 feet

Steal the balance from my brain

The Captain and his crew

Are cut-throats down in the Port of Spain

White-knuckled at the rains

His timbers wail in shame

See me wistful in some harbour bar

I tend the warm glass and the duelling scar

I sing my misappropriation song for lovers land-locked

Far too long

Oh angel baby I, lapping on a blue romance for cargo

And by compass with a serpent’s tail in chance

Through the forties and the Trades and a cutlass raised in rage

Just for cotton and tobacco

For whiskey and for gage

Take the whip to drive the sugar train

A scent plantation and banana rain

I sing my misappropriation song for lovers land-locked

Far too long

Hit it

Oh come inside the hurricane room

Oh come inside the hurricane room

Oh come inside the hurricane room

Angel baby you’re my hurricane room

Angel baby you’re my hurricane room

Love it