Now the half-dead pants are plagued by thirst.
They've sailed for weeks over the seven seas.
Hurricanes and scurvy had brought the crew
to the end of its forces.
Then, finally, on the 52nd day of their journey
they heard a sound from the lookout: "Land in sight!"
Before them lay the island of their dreams.
A rough pile was what they found here
No one had ever seen it before.
Now they all sit in the same boat
and fight together against thirst and death,
Thirst and death, thirst and death...
On the search for the liquor island!
On the search for the liquor island!
Aah, liquor island!
Aah, liquor island!
Under false flags, they steered Northwest
and held the steering wheel tightly
Port is rammed into by a ship,
the lookout was too late to recognize it.
On the search for the liquor island!
On the search for the liquor island!
Aah, liquor island!
Aah, liquor island!
The trip is at its end; there's a leak in the bow
At the stern sounds the captain.
We leave the wheelbarrow untouched at the roadside;
we attempt to walk to the party
On the search for the liquor island!
On the search for the liquor island!
Aah, liquor island!
Aah, liquor island!
Aah, liquor island!