It's acrimony down in the card room
With winning hands thrown on the baise
Forgotten cards wait at the end of debate
On the good old days
Captains and mates getting testy
With memories not of the best
Tempers are rising
Down at the Sailor's Rest.
Blue eyes in wrinkled Morocco
Still search the horizons for squalls
Zeros in the skies of the watch keepers' eyes
And the pawn shop balls
Spice in the wind off of Java
And the bars in Papeete were best
This deck is too steady
Down at the Sailor's Rest.
Oh…how they talk of the day they arrived.
When after the years, all the storms and the fears
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 the keepsakes locked in the chest
That were stowed in the attic
Down at the Sailor's Rest.
No rail at the mess room table
And you're dead if you spit on the floor.
No grog allowed, no singing too loud
No locks on the doors.
But there's always a fire in the card room
And the tucker is always the best
And they'll end this together
Down at the Sailor's Rest.
Oh…how they talk of the day they arrived.
When 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 the keepsakes locked in the chest
Which were sold at the auction
Down at the Sailor's rest.
It's acrimony down in the card room…