Digital Tradition Mirror

Old Fid

Old Fid
(Bill Lowndes)

I'll sing you a song of the rolling sky
Of lands far beyond the main
Of the ebb tide bell and the salt pork meal
That I'll never know me again
I mind the times as we were becalmed
With never a breath for the sheets
The red sun was so hot that the water would rot
And the decking would blister your feet

cho:      So don't ask me where I've damned well been
        And don't ask me what I did
        For every thumb was a marlinespike
        and every finger a fid

And then there's the times that we rounded the Horn
With cargoes of silk for Cadiz
The swell roll was so high It were lashing the sky
Lord the whole bloody world's in a fizz
Whether spices from Java or copra from Yap
Or a bosun too free with the cat
It was haul up the anchor and roll out that spanker
And dammit move faster than that

I've loved the proud women from Spain's dusty plains
I've seen where the Arab girls sleep
And the black girls as well though they're fiercer than Hell
Have all kissed me when silver was cheap
Lord, how the man's changed from that young cabin boy
to the old man who sits on this bench
for I'm too old to fight or to stay out all night
In the comp'ny of some pretty wench

Just an old clipper man who's long past his best years
And I know that I'll never be free
From the smell of the tar that once braided my hair
Or the salty old tang of the sea

from "Victory Sings at Sea"
Victory Music
10407 S.W.Cowan
Vashon WA 98070
Copyright Bill Lowndes

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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