Two in the morning, dry-dock town
|
The rivers rolls away in the night
|
Little gypsy moth she's all tied down
|
She quiver in the wind and the light
|
|
Yeah and a sailing ship just held down in chains
|
From the lazy days of sail
|
She's just lying there in silent pain
|
He lean on the turist rail
|
|
A mother and her baby and the college of war
|
In the concrete graves
|
You never wanna fight against the river law
|
Nobody rules the waves
|
Yeah and on a night when the lazy wind is a-wailing
|
Around the Cutty Sark
|
Single handed sailor goes sailing
|
Sailing away in the dark
|
|
He's upon the bridge on the self same night
|
The mariner of dry dock land
|
Two in the morning, but there is one green light
|
And a man on the barge of sand
|
She's gonna slip away below him
|
Away from the things he's done
|
But he just shouts "Hey man, what do you call this thing?"
|
He could have said "Pride of London"
|
On a night when the lazy wind is a-wailing
|
Around the Cutty Sark
|
Yeah the single handed sailor goes sailing
|
Sailing away in the dark
|
|
-----------------
|
Single Handed Sailor
|
| Dire Straits |
