I can see from here the miles you’ve taken to, aching

Holding on for redeemers and thinkers alike

Bustling on to break, the getting yourself free kind of life

St. Joe pour me those ships that I might believe

Be free from the ailing and find the end of the road

Braver tell tales say it persuades you to paradise

But surely I’ve seen full blossom bowers without end

Bustling on to break, the getting yourself free kind of life

St. Joe pour me those ships that I might believe

Be free from the ailing and find the end of the road

St. Joe pour me those ships that I might believe

In sailors and others and the end of the road