The big smoke choked and work dried up
So I chased the continental shelf
To a port named for a governor
Who would've never travelled there himself
I thought murder never happened in public toilets
People never wore shorts in court
Until I became a greenhorn
On a fishing boat up north

The skipper joined the navy
Rode destroyers in the Persian Gulf
Until burned out plans in foreign lands
Had gone and dumped him in the tropics to redeem himself
We sailed many many many thousand miles
Sleeping on the open deck
Drifting on the ocean of a distant world
Dragging nothing except our empty nets

The voice at 3am is dangerous
The voice at 3am is always game

And then late one night we cranked the winch
And I hoisted it in the air
A giant Irukandji, lit up by a signal flare
It had seven eyes and seven [?]
Laced with cyanide and DMT
The colour of a swimming pool
So heavy that the boat was leaning
We stood shit scared in the pouring rain
As it began to speak
It said "I didn't mean to startle you
I heard your engines in the deep
You see I've wrecked Korean trawlers
I've mauled a French corvette
I spooked an aircraft carrier that scrambled at its jets
And I muddled up the Bay of Pigs back in 1962
But this time I'm quite sure that things won't end so well for you"

The voice at 3am is dangerous
The voice at 3am is always game