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…