Lyrics:

Backwater!
We're sailing at the edges of time
Backwater!
We're drifting at the waterline
Oh, we're floating in the coastal waters
You and me and the porter's daughters
Ooh, what to do? Not a sausage to do
And the shorter of the porter's daughters
Dips her hands in the deadly waters
Ooh, what to do in a tiny canoe?

Black water!
There were six of us, but now we are five
We're all talking
To keep the conversation alive
There was a Senator from Ecuador
Who talked about a meteor
That crashed on a hill, in the south of Peru
And was found by a conquistador
Who took it to the Emperor
And he passed it on to a Turkish guru

His daughter
Was slated for becoming divine
He taught her
He taught her how to split and define
But if you study the logistics
And heuristics of the mystics, you will
Find that their minds rarely move in a line
So, it's much more realistic
To abandon such ballistics and
Resign to be trapped on a leaf in the vine


Backwater!
We're sailing at the edges of time
Backwater!
We're drifting at the waterline
Oh, we're floating in the coastal waters
You and me and the porter's daughters
Ooh, what to do? Not a sausage to do
And the shorter of the porter's daughters
Dips her hands in the deadly waters
Ooh, what to do in a tiny canoe?