CHARGE!

 

 

 

Old Sailors

OLD SAILORS SIT AND CHEW THE FAT
ABOUT THINGS THAT USED TO BE,
OF THE THINGS THEY'VE SEEN,
THE PLACES THEY'VE BEEN,
WHEN THEY VENTURED OUT TO SEA.


THEY REMEMBERED FRIENDS FROM LONG AGO,
THE TIMES THEY HAD BACK THEN.
THE MONEY THEY SPENT,
THE BEER THEY DRANK,
IN THEIR DAYS AS SAILING MEN.

THEIR LIVES ARE LIVED IN DAYS GONE BY,
WITH THOUGHTS THAT FOREVER LAST.
OF BELL BOTTOM BLUES,
WINGED WHITE HATS,
AND GOOD TIMES IN THEIR PAST.

THEY RECALL LONG NIGHTS WITH A MOON SO BRIGHT
FAR OUT ON A LONELY SEA.
THE THOUGHTS THEY HAD
AS YOUTHFUL LADS,
WHEN THEIR LIVES WERE WILD AND FREE.

THEY KNEW SO WELL HOW THEIR HEARTS WOULD SWELL
WHEN OLD GLORY FLUTTERED PROUD AND FREE.
THE UNDERWAY PENNANT
SUCH A BEAUTIFUL SIGHT
AS THEY PLOWED THROUGH AN ANGRY SEA.

THEY TALKED OF THE CHOW OL' COOKIE WOULD MAKE
AND THE SHRILL OF THE BOSUN'S PIPE.
HOW SALT SPRAY WOULD FALL
LIKE SPARKS FROM HELL
WHEN A STORM STRUCK IN THE NIGHT.

THEY REMEMBER OLD SHIPMATES ALREADY GONE
WHO FOREVER HOLD A SPOT IN THEIR HEART,
WHEN SAILORS WERE BOLD,
AND FRIENDSHIPS WOULD HOLD,
UNTIL DEATH RIPPED THEM APART

THEIR SAILING DAYS ARE GONE AWAY,
NEVER AGAIN WILL THEY CROSS THE BROW.
THEY HAVE NO REGRETS,
THEY KNOW THEY ARE BLESSED,
FOR HONORING A SACRED VOW.

THEIR NUMBERS GROW LESS WITH EACH PASSING DAY
AS THE FINAL MUSTER BEGINS,
THERE'S NOTHING TO LOSE,
ALL HAVE PAID DUES,
AND THEY'LL SAIL WITH SHIPMATES AGAIN.

I'VE HEARD THEM SAY BEFORE GETTING UNDERWAY
THAT THERE'S STILL SOME SAILING TO DO,
THEY'LL SAY WITH A GRIN
THAT THEIR SHIP HAS COME IN
AND THE LORD IS COMMANDING THE CREW.

 

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