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SAILOR'S PRAYER (Tom Lewis) This dirty town has been my home since last time I was sailing But I'll not stay another day, I'd sooner be out whaling Oh Lord above, send down a dove, With beak as sharp as razors To cut the throat of them there blokes Who sells bad beer to sailors Paid off me score and them ashore, me money soon was flying With Judy Lee upon my knee in my ear a lying With my newfound friends, my money spent just as fast as winking But when I make to clean the slate, the landlord says, "Keep Drinking" With me money gone and clothes in pawn and Judy set for leaving Six months of pay gone in three days, but Judy isn't grieving When the crimp comes round, I'll take his pound and his hand I'll be shaking Tomorrow morn sail for the Horn just as dawn is breaking So for one last trip from port I'll ship but next time back I'm swearing I'll settle down in my hometown and go no more seafaring written by Tom Lewis @sea filename[ SAILPRAY SOF |
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