A Sailor Being Tired Songtext - Luke Abbott

A Sailor Being Tired - Luke Abbott

'Tis a sailor being tired, well, he hung down his head
'Tis a sailor being tired, well, he hung down his head
He asked the little maid to show him the bed

Well, she showed him the bed like a maid ought to do
Well, she showed him the bed like a maid ought to do
Say, it's come my little honey won't you come to bed too

It's a maid being young, not thinking any harm
She got into the bed, rolled up into his arms
It's what I done there, well I wouldn't tell here
But I wish that night coulda been a long year

It's a six months passed, and eight rolled by
It's a six months passed, and eight rolled by
It's her shoes they wasn't buttoned,
Lord, her apron wasn't tied

If it is a girl, just dress it in red
Bounce it on your knee, Lord, comb it's curly head
If it is a boy-child, name it after me
Put a pistol in its pocket, Lord, and send him to the sea

Put a pistol in its pocket, Lord, and dress him in blue
Tell it to hug the women like his daddy used to do


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