SHANGHAIED
(David Littlefield, member of Forebitter, Mystic CT)
On his CD "From the Shore"

As I come down from a hill side farm, down to the water's eye.
I hung my hat in a public house, for I was feeling dry.
There every blasphemy was heard and every curse a-spoken,
And the pretty girls that paint their face come gigglin' and a jokin'

One of them stepped up to me with a glad-eye looked quite frisky.
She said "Kind sir, how do you do? Would you buy me a dram of whiskey?"
I called the landlord with delight to bring us glasses two
But shortly then my eyes grew dim all from the noxious brew.

Upstairs to bed to rest my head but on me they did impose.
They took my watch, (my) pocket knife and robbed me of my clothes.
I was too sick all them to kick, for I could fight no more.
All in was I, left for to die, and then they locked the door!

For two long days or maybe three I kicked and stomped and hollered.
Two brutes come in and thrash-ed me with muscles like a bollard.
They threw me in a steamer trunk and cursed me not to shout.
For if I was to make a sound my tongue they would cut out.

Down to the dock in a trap and mare my fate was to be a sailor.
My heart grew faint, my blood ran cold when I found it was a whaler.
We chased the whale for three long years all on the South Sea Ocean.
It was the worst time of my life, a terrible commotion.

Next time I venture from my home, I will attend to chapel.
With hands a-clasped and head bowed down, say grace at the harvest table.
A temperate man I swear I'll be, strong ale I'll drink no more.
And I’ll curse the sea and foreign lands beyond my native shore.