Lyrics:

Still scowling black, good Captain Clack
Must eat his humble pie
His bed is made, the colours fade
His eyes once wet are dry

The naked muse, who sits and chews
Tobacco off a tree
Removes his shoes, gives way to booze
And searches endlessly

See the naked jumberlack
Sip his aphrodisiac
Cotton-picking farmers three
Though I lost my weather vane
And of sense, I have one grain
I'm content sipping lemon tea

Still scowling black, good Captain Clack
Must eat his humble pie
His bed is made, the colours fade
His eyes once wet are