Wooden ships on the water, very free and easy
Easy, you know the way it’s supposed to be
Silver people on the shoreline, let us be
Talkin’ 'bout very free and easy
I thought that they were angels but to my surprise
They climbed aboard their starship and headed for the skies
Singing come sail away come sail away
Come sail away with me
Come sail away come sail away
Come sail away with me
Make fast the guns, tonight we sail when the high tide floods the bay
Cut free the lines and square the yards, get the black flag stowed away
The Turk, the Arab, the Spaniard will soon have pennies on their eyes
And any other laden fancy, we will take her by surprise
I will take you and make you
Everything you’ve ever dreamed
But thoughts about the Spaniards’ gold
And learnin’ to desire it
Can make a man so brash and bold
He’ll soon become a pirate
Pull away, me lads o’ the Cardiff Rose
And hoist the Jolly Roger
Second hand pearls
I’m wearing second hand curls
I never get a single think that’s new
Even Jake, the plumber, he’s a man I adore
He had the nerve to tell me he’s been married before!
Everyone knows that I’m just
Second hand Rose
From Second Avenue!
From Second Avenue!
Easy street
Easy street
Where you sleep till noon
Yeah, yeah, yeah
She’d repeat
Easy street
Better get there soon
Now in the street there is violence
And-and a lots of work to be done
No place to hang out our washing
And-and I can’t blame all on the sun
Oh no, we gonna rock down to Electric Avenue
And then we’ll take it higher
You work real hard
And the pay’s real low
And ev’ry hour
Goes oh, so slow
And at the end of the day
There’s no where to go
But home to Avenue Q!
You live on Avenue Q!
Your friends do too.
You are twenty-two
And you live on Avenue Q!
It’s a Five O’Clock World
When the whistle blows
Whistle down the wind
Let your voices carry
Drown out all the rain
Light a patch of darkness
Treacherous and scary
Howl at the stars
Whisper when you’re sleepy
I’ll be there to hold you
I’ll be there to stop
The chills and all the weeping
There’s only one thing that I know how to do well
And I’ve often been told that you only can do what you know how to do well
And that’s be you
Be what you’re like
Be like yourself
And so I’m having a wonderful time
But I’d rather be whistling in the dark
Whistle while you work
Hitler is a jerk
Mussolini bit his weenie
Now it doesn’t work
When der fuehrer says we is de master race
We heil heil right in der fuehrer’s face
Not to love der fuehrer is a great disgrace
So we heil heil right in der fuehrer’s face
Cigareetes is a blot on the whole human race.
A man is a monkey with one in his face.
Here’s my definition, believe me, dear brother:
A fire on one end and a fool on t’other.
So bongo, bongo, bongo, I don’t wanna leave the Congo, oh no no no no no
Bingo, bangle, bungle, I’m so happy in the jungle, I refuse to go
Don’t want no jailhouse, shotgun, fish-hooks, golf clubs, I got my spears
So, no matter how they coax him, I’ll stay right here
They have things like the atom bomb, so I think I’ll stay where I am
Civilization, I’ll stay right here
In man’s evolution he’s created the city
And the motor traffic rumble.
But give me half a chance and I’d be taking off my clothes
And living in the jungle.
Cause the only time that I feel at ease
Is swinging up and down in the coconut trees.
Oh what a life of luxury to be like an apeman.
He’s free as the breeze, he’s always at ease
He lives in the jungle and hangs by his knees
As he swings through the trees without a trapeze
In his B.V.D.s
He’s got a union card and he’s practicing hard
To play, the guitar, gonna be a big star
Yeah, he’s gonna go far
And carry moonbeams home in a jar
Bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store
Didn’t know how to play it, but he knew for sure
That one guitar felt good in his hands
Didn’t take long to understand
Just one guitar, slung way down low
Was one way ticket, only one way to go
Inside his case was a Gibson disaster
Toolmaster of Brainerd
He played guitar like a master, but faster
Toolmaster of Brainerd
He came to town on a charter bus
Too young and sweet to be hustling us
He played guitar like a natural disaster
Play on, Toolmaster of Brainerd
He used to carry his guitar in a gunny sack
Go sit beneath the tree by the railroad track
Oh, the engineers would see him sitting in the shade
Strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made
People passing by they would stop and say
Oh my that little country boy could play