Here they are:

I met her first in Yarmouth, standing by the quay
Dressed up in gaudy colours, she looked alright to me.
I knew nothing of her past; I could tell she'd been around.
Her age it did not matter; in her beauty I could have drowned.

Chorus:

Goodbye to you Marques, to Portugal and Spain.
I'll miss you on the Mersey when the tall ships come again.


I got to know her well that morning; I felt her breathing, heard her sighs.
Rising and falling beneath me, she brought tears to my eyes.
It was clear she wanted freedom, to cut her ties and run.
I left her in the evening, sailed eastwards from the sun.


Though others may grow to love her despite her cranky ways
Her cooing and her screaming on calm and stormy days
They'll beautify and pamper her, accede to her every whim
Yet secretly they understand, her heart they cannot win.


And now she's gone forever, her lovers left to mourn
A cruel triangle victim, where hearts from men are torn
It was finished in a moment, damned beyond reprieve
Despite her film-star temperament her memory will not leave.