Fletcher Christian, he found a cave non the northern tip of the islandnIt was a sort of privacy placenwhen he'd go there nobody could find himnHumiliation was imminent nHe'd rather die than be sent back to EnglandnFrom this height he'd conduct his last fightnshould a ship be sent in to persue themnnFletcher Christian, he found him a cavenand he'd go there to be alonennUp a narrow and dangerous path nto his mountain side cavern obsessionnhe'd paint a picture, he'd comb his hairnanything to relieve his depression nLet history witness my honor is tossednand my men are all lost by extension.nnFletcher Christian he'd go to his cavenWhen he needed to be alonenA cage in a cave . . .nnIt's next to the waternOh yeah, he's Thursday's fathernGuess what his defense is?nHe's built himself a barricade of logsnnSick of the back-bittingnall the infightingnEach sailor he wants his own waynIf the island is his kingdomnwhere is all his freedom?nTahitian women are not all they saynnTo fits of melancholynhe was increasingly pronenin thinking back on what he'd donenhe should have known -nthat left to their own devicesnthis kind of rabble would kill for a wifenand he knew why Captin Bligh had gone off the deep endnwhen they'd sent him back homennFletcher Christian he found him a cavenand he'd go there to be alonenIn a cage in a cave . . . n