Tune: Marching Inland (Tom Lewis)
My grandma had sure-fire way to make her luck run good, She never expressed any hope except while touching wood. To any one who asked and to many who did not, She’d share her superstitions and good grief she had a lot. I'm marching inland and I’ll never halt, Over me shoulder I throw a pinch of salt. When someone asks me “What are you throwing like a clot?” I’ll say, My grandma never left it on the floor, the floor, No, my grandma never left it on the floor. Never take a woman on board a man of war Take a rabbit’s foot and nail a horseshoe on the door No cards or umbrellas and don’t speak about the pig Or the winds will make the ship to toss and dance a merry jig. Columbus he set-sail to prove the world was like a sphere, But when he broke his mirror he got lost for many a year. He tried to reach the Indies but he found he wasn’t able, He should have asked my gran and kept his shoes from off the table. Drake he's in his hammock and his luck is running bad, Grenville lost Drake's flag and the best ship that he had, They should have asked my gran if it was right to go to sea: “Never on the thirteenth day, nor on a Frideree.” Sailors take a warning from these men and from my gran Don’t step beneath a ladder and don’t whistle if you can When you leave the ocean if you never want to fret Never cast your anchor anywhere that could be wet.
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