-
-
-
-
-
-
them calling my name. Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors. The voice might be one and the same. I've heard it too many times to ignore it. It's something that I'm supposed to be
-
fall we'll fall we'll fall. Fall in love like sailors do. Tell your lover you'll be true. Sail upon the stupid sea. We'll fall. You will have a sheet of red. Paint the trees, the trees are dead
-
colliding on the breast. Of fat Marie whose thunder laugh. Was just a thread from crying Her sailors stained her cobblestones. With wine and piss and death desire. And sometimes blood for Madelaine
-
have taken what was theirs. Ships went down, but no one cares. So many sailors lay buried in the deep. They'll no longer weep. Have mercy on me. Don't let the sea. Swallow my life. Swallow my life
-
them calling my name. Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors. The voice might be one and the same. I've heard it too many times to ignore it. It's something that I'm supposed to be
-
Oh it's like a storm at sea. And everything is lost, . And the fretful sailors calling out their woes, . As to the waves they're tossed. . Oh they are all gentlemen, . And never will they know
-
Oh it's like a storm at sea. And everything is lost, . And the fretful sailors calling out their woes, . As to the waves they're tossed. . Oh they are all gentlemen, . And never will they know
-
painter from your streets. Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets. The sky too is foldin' under you. And it's all over now, baby blue All your seasick sailors, they are goin' home. Your empty-handed
-
painter from your streets. Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets. The sky too is foldin' under you. And it's all over now, baby blue All your seasick sailors, they are goin' home. Your empty-handed
-
-
-
strong man Samson lifts the midget, little Tiny Tim, up on his shoulders, way up. And carries him on down the midway, past the kids, past the sailors, to his dimly lit trailer. And the Ferris wheel turns
-
Outer banks of North Carolina. Lies a sleepy harbor town. Generations of old sailors. Dropped their sails and settled down Sam, he is a young seafarer. Grandson of a Schooner man. Catherine is a
-
-
-
-
twenty grand I'm sorry it went down like this. And someone had to lose, it's the nature of the business. It's the smuggler's blues, smuggler's blues The sailors and pilots, the soldiers and the law. The
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Pre>capo iv. Finger pick the verses, strum chorus. . Am. Sailors climb the tree, up the terrible tree. G. Where are my shipmates have they sunk beneath the sea?. Am. I do not know much, but I
-
, that ain't oil, that's blood". I wonder what he was thinking when he hit that storm, or was he just lost in the flood? Eighth Avenue sailors in satin shirts whisper in the air. Some storefront
-