I've been eating fish exclusively since living on my claim
And such vittles ain't the kind I love the best,
For down in my insides, I can feel the rising tides,
Round the little old log cabin on my claim,
Oh, the door is made of driftwood, the roof it leaks like sin.
Floor boards float when rain come pourin' in.
Hark I hear a geoduck, as he nestles in the muck,
Round the little old log cabin on my claim.