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. Chorus: 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.
2. Paid off me score and them ashore, me money soon was flying
3. With my new-found friends, my money spent just as fast as winking
4. With me money gone and clothes in pawn and Judy set for leaving
5. When the crimp comes round, I'll take his pound and his hand I'll be shaking
6. So for one last trip from port I'll ship but next time back I'm swearing |