About the Song

Toby Keith, the country music king of red Solo cups and summertime anthems, takes a humorous yet relatable turn with “Sailboat for Sale”. This track, found on his 2015 album “35 MPH Town”, tells the tale of a sailor stuck in a frustrating situation, all wrapped up in a catchy, toe-tapping melody.

“Sailboat for Sale” is a story song filled with Keith’s signature wit. The narrator, a self-proclaimed “drunken sailor,” finds himself stuck with a sailboat he clearly despises. The lyrics paint a picture of a frustrating purchase, perhaps fueled by rum-induced spontaneity (“An old pirate sold me on it / G / D / We traded straight across / The boat I thought I wanted / A / For the boat I hate”).

The song’s humor lies in the sailor’s predicament. He’s stuck with a vessel that doesn’t suit his fancy, one that seemingly lacks the necessary “throttle” for a real sailing adventure. “Sailboat for Sale” becomes a lament for a bad deal, with the catchy chorus (“Sailboat for sale / With a drink in my hand and a sailboat for sale”) serving as a hilarious plea to anyone willing to take this unwanted vessel off his hands.

But beneath the surface of the song’s humor lies a relatable theme. We’ve all, at some point, made impulsive purchases that turned out to be less than ideal. “Sailboat for Sale” taps into that feeling of buyer’s remorse, delivered with a healthy dose of self-deprecating humor.

While the song doesn’t delve into the specifics of the “ocean” the sailor can’t seem to reach, it evokes a sense of yearning for something more. Perhaps it’s the open seas and the thrill of adventure, or maybe it’s simply a desire for something different from the monotony of his current situation.

“Sailboat for Sale” is a lighthearted and entertaining song that showcases Toby Keith’s ability to weave humor and relatable themes into a catchy country tune. It’s a perfect addition to any playlist that needs a dose of laughter and a reminder that even the toughest cowboys can make bad decisions sometimes.

Video 

Lyrics: Sailboat for Sale 

I’m floating in my boat
Not the one I used to fish in
But the boat I sit in wishin’
I was still floating on my fishing boat
And I’m out here on this river
Really it’s just a creek
But it’s a river when I drink
So I’m drinking on my river boatI could sail to the ocean
If the wind would come and get me
But I ain’t goin’ nowhere quickly
I’m just a drunkin’ sailor
Waiting on a gale
With a drink in my hand and a sailboat for saleAye
AyeAn old pirate sold me on a
We traded straight across
The boat I thought I wanted
For the boat I hate I lost
She’ll sing when that wind whistles
When it doesn’t, well she don’t
Just ask that old pirate
That’s floatin’ on my river boat

I could sail to the ocean
If the wind would come and get me
But I ain’t goin’ nowhere quickly
I’m just a drunkin’ sailor
Waiting on a gale
With a drink in my hand and a sailboat for sale

Never make a handshake deal while sharing someone bottle
Never buy a boat son that doesn’t have a throttle

Aye
Aye

I could sail to the ocean
If the wind would come and get me
But I ain’t goin’ nowhere quickly
I’m just a drunkin’ sailor
Waiting on a gale
With a drink in my hand and a sailboat for sale

I got a sailboat for sale

Aye
Aye

You Missed

“I CAN’T JUST LEAVE HER WITHOUT TELLING HER HOW IT IS,” RAY PRICE WHISPERED TO HIS ENGINEER IN THE STUDIO DARKNESS. He didn’t care about the chart positions or the industry accolades that had defined his career since the fifties. He needed the technology to capture a sincerity he had spent decades hiding behind the polish of the Ray Price Sound, ensuring the silence of his house wouldn’t be absolute. Ray Price and Janie Phillips shared a life defined by the rhythmic hum of the honky-tonk circuit and the quiet machinery of the music business. By 2012, however, the terminal weight of pancreatic cancer began to dictate the pace of their days. While the chemotherapy drained the vitality from his frame, Ray insisted on returning to the microphone. He chose a collection of love songs that felt like a long-overdue confession, building them out in a Nashville studio while keeping the project shielded from the one person who had been his professional and personal anchor for decades. Janie was kept at a distance, unaware that the distance was intentional. Ray was crafting a final, hidden correspondence. Each session at the microphone required a monumental effort, a man straining against his own biology to ensure the pitch remained true and the phrasing stayed sharp. He finished the work in October 2013, exhausted but satisfied, calling the record the finest thing he had ever managed to capture. He died in December, before the world ever heard a note. When the record eventually surfaced, Janie found herself standing in the spotlight she had spent forty-three years avoiding. She stepped into the radio stations and the silence of their home, carrying the voice of a man who had finally learned how to say what mattered most once he was no longer there to speak it himself.