THE SEAFOOD SHOP SHANTYMAN SONG
                                          Greg Trafidlo
                                c 1995, KiraPole Music, BMI

In the city of Lincoln, Nebraska, a frustrated sailor was born.
He read about ships that rolled out of the slips,
And went sailing for years ‘round the Horn.
He learned all the reels and the shanties, still he’s twelve hundred 
miles from the shore.
Instead of sea farin’, he sells pickled herrin’ at the I.G.A. grocery 
store.

Ands it’s way, hey, rig up the sails, we’re off for the catch of 
the day.
He sings, “Yo, Ho, ring up the sale, to broil, to bake, or fillet.”
There’s roughy and schrod, catfish and cod, and we’re runnin’ a 
special on
prawns.
He sings straight from the heart to your shopping cart.
It’s the seafood shop shantyman’s song.

He bellows his tunes o’er the speakers, like a shantyman sings to his 
crew.
“Set sail for the Seafood Department, there’s plenty of oysters for 
stew.
There’s turbot and trout, and you’ll knock yourself out
On the salmon from Frobisher Bay.
There’s swordfish and shrimp, and we never skimp on the salads made 
fresh every day.”

Chorus (Change third line.)
To broil, to bake, or flambe’.

With his gaze on a bottle of Old Spice, halfway down on the right. 
Aisle ten.
He longs for the days of the Tall Ships, and dreams they’re returnin’ 
again.
And he sees himself out on the watchdeck, singin’ cadence off Pamlico 
Sound.
While he’s manning his station, it’s no imitation, like those crab legs 
for two bucks a pound.

Chorus (Change third line)
To broil, to bake, or e’touffee.
Turn-around last line