Rum - Honeyed

  • Row Bullies Row Perfume Oil

    The boardinghouse masters came aboard in a trice
    A shouting and a promising all that was nice
    Til one old crib took a liking to me
    Says he you’re a fool, lad, to follow the sea

    And it’s row, row bullies row

    Says he there’s a job as is waiting for you
    With lashings of liquor and beggar-all to do
    Says he what you say lad, will you? – or two?
    Says I you old bastard, I’m damned if I do

    And it’s row, row bullies row

    But the best of intentions they never goes far
    After thirty two days at the door of the bar
    I tossed off me liquor and what do you think
    That rotten old bastard had doctored me drink

    And it’s row, row bullies row

    Next I remember I woke in the morn
    On a the three skysail yarder bound south round Cape Horn
    With an old set of oilskins and two pair of socks
    And an IOU nailed to the lid of my box

    And it’s row, row bullies row

    Honeyed rum, a whiff of almond, and a hint of something suspiciously soporific.

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