You’re on a ship two thousand miles from shore, / your ship’s been sailing for two thousand years or more, / and where it’s landing, no-one really can be sure, / the secret sorrow of a travelling man.   / You placed your wealth into its empty hold, / you put your [bad word] [bad word]  furs and gold, / now all that’s left is what your two cold hands can hold, / the secret sorrow of a travelling man. / Fall on your knees, pray to the East, / scream at the South, let it all out. / Wail at the West, rail at the North, / nothing can turn this ship from its course. / You’re on a ship two thousand miles from shore, / your ship’s been sailing for two thousand years or more, / and where it’s landing, no-one really can be sure, / the secret sorrow of a travelling man. // You’re on a ship…