" Old Sailors Poem "

OLD SAILORS SIT AND CHEW THE FAT
IN POORLY LITE BARS SITTING IN THE BACK

THE LIVES THEY LIVED AS THOSE DAYS DON'T LAST
AND ALL THE GOOD TIMES REMEMBERED FROM THE PAST
WITH THOUGHTS OF BELL BOTTOM BLUES
AND THOSE LITTLE WHITE HATS
AS THEY SINGLE UP LINES
BOTH FORE AND AFT

THEY RECALL LONG WATCHES LATE AT NIGHT
WHILE THE STARS AND MOON
WHICH SHINED DOWN SO BRIGHT
FAR OUT AT SEA,
IN THAT SUMMER BREEZE
THE THOUGHTS THEY HAD
WHEN THEIR LIVES WERE FREE

THEY KNEW SO WELL
THEIR HEARTS WOULD SWELL
WHEN OLD GLORY FLUTTERED HARD
DURING THAT STORMY GALE
HOW THE SALT SPRAY WOULD STING
WHILE THE LOOKOUT DID STAY,
ON THE STARBORAD BRIDGEWING
BOTH NIGHT AND DAY

THEY TALKED OF THE CHOW
THE NIGHT BAKER WOULD MAKE
FOR GUYS ON MID WATCH NOT GIVEN A BREAK
AND THE SHRILL OF THE BOS UN'S PIPE,
THROUGHOUT THE LONG DAY
CALLING FOR THE MUSTER AND MEALS
AND THE END OF A DAY

THEY REMEMBER THEIR SHIPMATES
WITH THE STORIES THEY TOLD
OF SAILORS THAT WERE CRAZY OR BOLD,
AND THE FRIENDSHIPS THAT WOULD HOLD,

THEY SPEAK OF THE NIGHTS
ON MANY A FOREIGN SHORE.
IN PIG ALLEY AND THE GUT
PLACES THEY REFUSED TO IGNORE
OF THE BEER AND WHISKEY
THE WOMAN THEY SEEN
TELLING JOKES AND SEA STORIES
LATE AT NIGHT WHEN AT SEA

THEIR SAILING DAYS ARE GONE
WHILE THEY SIT AND THINK BACK
NEVER AGAIN WILL THEY CROSS,
THAT BROW OR QUARTERDECK
BUT THEY HAVE NO REGRETS,
BECAUSE IT ISN'T QUITE OVER
AS SUNLIGHT FADES IN EARLY OCTOBER

AS THEIR NUMBERS GROW LESS
WITH EACH PASSING DAY
AS THE FINAL MUSTER BEGINS,
THERE'S NOTHING MORE TO SAY,
ALL HAVE PAID THEIR DUES,
AND THEY'LL SAIL AGAIN SOON

AS I'VE HEARD THEM SAY
WHILE PACKING THEIR SEABAGS
JUST THE NIGHT BEFORE
THEY GET UNDERWAY
THEY'LL SAY IT WITH A GRIN
THAT THEIR SHIP HAS COME IN
AND THE GOOD LORD NEEDS A CREW
OF A FEW SEASONED WELL HARDENED MEN