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Wednesday, 16 November 2011

The Ports of London

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

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