Down at the Sailors' Rest
Words & Music by Stan Rogers
(Recorded by Tom Lewis on Sea-Dog, See Dog!)
There's acrimony down in the cardroom,
with winning hands thrown on the baize;
Forgotten cards wait on the end of debate, all about 'The Good
Old Days!',
Captains and Mates getting testy, with memories not of the
best;
Tempers are rising - down at The Sailors' Rest!
Blue eyes in wrinkled 'Morrocco', still scan the horizon for
squalls;
Zeros in the skies of the lookout's eyes when he should see
pawnshop-balls;
Spice in the wind offa' Java, and the bars in Papeetee were
best,
But the deck is too steady - down at The Sailors' Rest!
Oh - how they talk of the day they arrived,
After the years, all the storms and the tears, still very much
alive.
Oh - how their lives were spilled out on the floor,
From the battered old sea-bags, the journals and logs,
And keepsakes locked in the chest,
That were stowed in the attic - down at the Sailors' Rest!
No rail on the messroom-table, and ye'r dead is you spit on
the floor!
No grog allowed, no singing too loud, no locks on the door.
But there's always a fire in the cardroom, and the tucker is
none but the best,
And they'll end it together- down at the Sailors' Rest!
Oh, how they talk of the way they survived,
After the years, the storms and the tears, still very much
alive.
Oh, how their lives were spilled out on the floor,
From the battered old sea-bags, the journals and logs, and
keepsakes locked in the chest,
That were sold at the auction - down at the Sailors' Rest!
