Little empty boat
You found me at some party
You thought I'd understand
You barreled over to me
With a drink in each hand
I respect your beliefs, girl,
And I consider you a friend,
But I've already been born once,
I don't wanna to be born again.
Your knowledge is impressive
And your argument is good
But I am the resurrection, babe,
And you're standing on my foot!
But my little boat is empty
It don't go
And my oar is broken
It don't row, row, row
But my little boat is empty
It don't go
And my oar is broken
It don't row, row, row
(Row!)
Your tiny little face
Keeps yapping in the gloom
Seven steps behind me
With your dustpan and broom.
I couldn't help but imagine you
All postured and prone
But there's a little guy on my shoulder
Says I should go home alone.
You keep leaning in on me
And you're looking pretty pissed
That grave you've dug between your legs
Is hard to resist.
But my little boat is empty
It don't go
And my oar is broken
It don't row, row, row
But my little boat is empty
It don't go
And my oar is broken
It don't row, row, row
Give to God what belongs to God
And give the rest to me
Tell our gracious host to fuck himself
It's time for us to leave.
But my little boat is empty
It don't go
And my oar is broken
It don't row, row, row
But my little boat is empty
It don't go
And my oar is broken
It don't row, row, row
Row...row...row...row...
Pequeño bote vacío
Me encontraste en alguna fiesta
Pensaste que entendería
Viniste hacia mí a toda velocidad
Con una bebida en cada mano
Respeto tus creencias, chica,
Y te considero una amiga,
Pero ya he nacido una vez,
No quiero volver a nacer.
Tu conocimiento es impresionante
Y tu argumento es bueno
Pero yo soy la resurrección, nena,
¡Y estás parada sobre mi pie!
Pero mi pequeño bote está vacío
No se mueve
Y mi remo está roto
No rema, rema, rema
Pero mi pequeño bote está vacío
No se mueve
Y mi remo está roto
No rema, rema, rema
(¡Rema!)
Tu diminuta carita
No para de hablar en la penumbra
Siete pasos detrás de mí
Con tu recogedor y escoba.
No pude evitar imaginarte
Toda posturada y tendida
Pero hay un hombrecito en mi hombro
Que dice que debería irme solo a casa.
Sigues acercándote a mí
Y pareces bastante enojada
Esa tumba que has cavado entre tus piernas
Es difícil de resistir.
Pero mi pequeño bote está vacío
No se mueve
Y mi remo está roto
No rema, rema, rema
Pero mi pequeño bote está vacío
No se mueve
Y mi remo está roto
No rema, rema, rema
Dale a Dios lo que es de Dios
Y dame el resto a mí
Dile a nuestro amable anfitrión que se joda
Es hora de irnos.
Pero mi pequeño bote está vacío
No se mueve
Y mi remo está roto
No rema, rema, rema
Pero mi pequeño bote está vacío
No se mueve
Y mi remo está roto
No rema, rema, rema
Rema... rema... rema... rema...