The Poor Sailor
Words and Music by John Wolfe Compton
Come ladies and gents, let me tell you a tale
of a poor country boy who became a sailor
pledging my life, the world I did roam
but no land or lady could I call my own
I’ve seen the green mountains of far away lands
but never under my own command
I could never beg or borrow, steal or sell
I’ve got many skills, but can only do one well
I am just a poor sailor,
with no money on my name
my story might sway your favor
If you want to play this sailing game
Back in the Midwest I made a good life,
With a sturdy home, job and a wife,
But that old rambin took a hold of me
With adventure in my mind, I set to the sea
Poor as a beggar, I broke my back,
For a mean-hearted Captain on a floating shack
I paid my dues and learned not to speak
sold my soul for a $10 a week
I am just a poor sailor,
with no money on my name
my story might sway your favor
If you want to play this sailing game
Returning home, my friends had split and cracked
like a broken mirror that won’t let you look back
They said, “John tell us of your life at sea”,
But they knew enough with just one look at me
That I was just a poor sailor,
with no money on my name
my story might sway your favor
If you want to play this sailing game
