The Ports of London

In the seedy ports

Of the London docks

A seaman sings

Of the things he’s seen

From the wild seven seas

He tells the wild dream

Of seamen who live and die

Drunk as skunks

Under strange foreign sky’s

In the seedy ports

Of the London docks

A baby was born

Down Silver Town Way

A whore for a mother

Sea tramps as his dad

The sea was his calling

Just the one chance he had

Eating the eyes and guts

And waste fish entrails

Firkins of beer to wash it down

That this old sea dog ate and drank

Made merry with whores

From Port of London docks

Never washing they gave

Him a dose of the pox

Crying and loud cursing

For beer and entrails to eat

The old sea dog danced a jig

His bloated fat gut

Rumbles  and rasps

As hot air and vile gases

Explode from his arse

More whiskey and beer

The old sea dog sings

Bring on the whores

The givers of pox

The harlots and pimps

                                    Of London’s old docks

Peter Wicks, for Brel