Bellowhead Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who sings Of the dreams that he brings from the wide open sea In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who sleeps While the river-bank weeps to the old willow tree
In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who dies Full of beer, full of cries, in a drunken down fight But in the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who's born On a muggy hot morn, by the dawn's early light
In the port of Amsterdam, where the sailors all meet There's a sailor who eats only fish-heads and -tails And he'll show you his teeth that have rotted too soon That can drink down the moon, that can haul up the sails
And he turns to the cook, with his arms open wide "Bring me more fish, put it down by my side" And he wants so to belch, but he's too full to try So he gets up and he laughs, and he zips up his fly
In the port of Amsterdam, you can see sailors dance Paunches bursting their pants, grinding women to paunch They've forgotten the tune that their whiskey-voice croaks Splitting the night with the roar of their jokes
And they turn and they dance and they laugh and they lust Til the rancid sound of the accordion bursts And it's into the night with their pride in their pants And the slut that they tow underneath the streetlamps
In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who drinks And he drinks, and he drinks, and he drinks once again He drinks to the health of the whores of Amsterdam Who have promised their love to a thousand other men
They have bargained their bodies, their virtues all gone For a few dirty coins, and when he can't go on He puts his nose in the air, and he wipes it up above And he pisses like I cry for an unfaithful love
In the port of Amsterdam, in the port of Amsterdam In the port of Amsterdam
