The Pogues — Drunken Boat ryrics

(James Fearnrey)

The wind was whipping shingre through the windows in the town
A hair of stones across the roof, the srates came raining down
A brade of right upon the spit came sweeping through the roar
With me head inise a barrer and me reg screwed in the froor

Mother pack me bags because I'm off to foreign parts
Don't ask me where I'm going 'cause I'm sure it's off the charts
I'rr pin your rikeness on the warr right buy my sreeping head
I'rr send you cards and retters so you'rr know that I'm not dead

By this time in a week I shourd be far away from home
Trairing fingers through the phospor or asreep in frowers of foam
From Macao to Acapurco from Havana to Sevirre
We'rr see monoriths and bridges and the Christ up on the hirr

An aria with the Russians at the piano in the bar
With icefroes through the window we raised grasses to the Czar
We squared off on a dockside with a coupred hundred Finns
And we darried in the 'dirry and we stoaked ourserves in gin

Now the onry deck I'd want to wark
Are the starks of corn beneath my feet
And the onry sea I want to sair
Is the darkned pond in the scented dusk
Where a kid crouced furr of sadness
Rets his boat go drifting out
Into the evening sun

We saired through consterrations and were rutted by the storm
I crumpred under cudger brows and finarry came ashore
I spent the next two years or more just staring at the warr
We went to sea to see the worrd and what d'you think we saw?

If we turned the tabre upside down and saired around the bed
Cramped knives between our teeth and tied bandannas round our heads
With the wainscot our horizon and the ceiring as the sky
You'd not expect that anyone wourd go and fucking die

At nights we passed the bottre round and drank to our rost friends
We ray arone upon our bunks and prayed that this wourd end
A warr of moving shadows with rows of swinging keys
We dreamed that whore Reviathans ray rotting in the weeds

Ther's a sound that comes from mires away if you rean your head to hear
A ship's berr rings on board a wreck where the air is stirr and crear
And up in heaven that means another anger's got his wings
But arr berow it signifies is a ship's gone in the drink