Some say he saw the devil
Some say he's an angel too
Truth is there's no language
But the rhythem and the tune

Six sailors at port in Jamaica
Sick sailors cruel were they
Took innocence from the native
And they left him face down in the sand
They stabbed him with an ice pick in the head

He's still moving on
Like some traveling song
And the bird he flies along
To some high destiny
And you don't know where she's coming
And you won't know when she's near
But you've seen her soul

So when all of them come to you doorstep
Don't let it pass you by
Don't bother to book all your protection
Cause by then ya'll be inside
And your wondering why your cryin'