Stan Rogers - Sailor's Rest lyrics

It's acrimony down in the card room With winning hands thrown on the baize; Forgotten cards wait on the end of debate On the good old days. Captains and mates getting testy With memories not of the best And tempers are flying Down at the Sailor's Rest. Blue eyes in wrinkled Morocco Still search the horizon for squalls, And Zeros in the sky and the watchkeeper's eye And the pawn shop balls. The spice in the wind off Java And the bars in Papity were best, But the deck is too steady Down at the Sailor's Rest. And oh...how they talk of the day they arrived; When after the years, all the storms and the tears, Still very much alive. And oh...how their lives were spilled out on the floor From the battered old seabags, the journals and logs And the keepsakes locked in the chests That were stowed in the attic [sold at the auction] Down at the Sailor's Rest. No rail on the mess room table And you're dead if you spit on the floor. No grog allowed, no singing too loud, And no locks on the doors; But there's always a fire in the card room And the tucker is always the best, And they'll end it together Down at the Sailor's Rest. And oh...how they talk of the day they arrived; When after the years, all the storms and the tears, Still very much alive. And oh...how their lives were spilled out on the floor From the battered old seabags, the journals and logs And the keepsakes locked in the chests That were stowed in the attic [sold at the auction] Down at the Sailor's Rest. And oh...how they talked of the day they arrived... So...It's acrimony down in the card room With winning hands thrown on the baize; Forgotten cards wait on the end of debate On the good old days. Captains and mates getting testy With memories not of the best And tempers are flying Down at the Sailor's Rest.