Fig - Blackened

  • Leave Her, Johnny Perfume Oil

    Oh the times are hard and the wages low
    Leave her, Johnny, leave her
    Oh the times are hard and the wages low
    And it’s time for us to leave her.

    Oh my old mother she wrote to me
    ‘My dear son, come home from sea.’

    It was rotten meat and weevilly bread
    ‘You’ll eat or starve,’ the Old Man said.

    I thought I heard the Old Man say
    ‘You can go ashore and collect your pay.’

    It’s time for us to say goodbye
    For the old pierhead is drawing nigh.

    Leave her, Johnny, leave her
    Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her
    The voyage is done and the winds don’t blow
    And it’s time for us to leave her.

    A sailor’s love song to her ship: Laotian oud, white cedarwood, sweet black patchouli, spiced rum, blackened fig, and coconut.

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