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Feel that wet concrete through the seat of your jeans |
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No cab-fare, just the cold air |
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You're a man without means. |
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A bank roll lighter and light years older |
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Someone's hand was in your pocket |
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While they cried on your shoulder. |
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Don't stare at that man in the tropic white suit, ah! |
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He may mop his brow but he's liable to shoot yah! |
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He's no Peter Lorre, he's no merry prankster, |
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He'll help you to find out |
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Why they put "angst" into "ganster". |
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Seaport September, a night to remember |
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Bad Luck is no exclusive club |
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They just make you a member. |
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Sometimes it's easy to forget where you are |
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When Marseilles seems just a day away |
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Before this Singapore bar. |
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Asking a Joe, does he know somewhere finer |
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Then a blow up and your show up |
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On a slower boat to China. |
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And a head that might be yours |
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Is aching on a lower bunk |
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Did you really set to sea |
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To be a sailor on this junk? |
