(Verse 1) We’re six months out of Bristol with a cargo full of grain, And every hairy forecastle is addled in the brain. Old Barnaby was desperate, he’d lost his blooming mind, He tried to court a manatee and kiss it from behind! He whispered "Lovely Mary" as he grabbed its slippery snout, Until it bit his breeches off and tossed the lad about! (Chorus) Oh, the rigging’s looking shapely and the anchor’s looking fine, We’re squinting at the barnacles and wishing they were wine! It’s a long haul to New Orleans and we’ve lost our wits at sea, There’s not a soul among us who’s got any dignity! (Verse 2) The Boatswain got a glimmer in his crusty, salt-rimed eye, He saw a crate of cabbages and started in to sigh. He dressed one in a kerchief and he called it "Darling Bess," And took it to his hammock for a leafy, green caress. The Captain caught him whispering to every sprout and core, And now the Boatswain’s forbidden from the larder anymore! (Chorus) Oh, the rigging’s looking shapely and the anchor’s looking fine, We’re squinting at the barnacles and wishing they were wine! It’s a long haul to New Orleans and we’ve lost our wits at sea, There’s not a soul among us who’s got any dignity! (Verse 3) The Cabin Boy’s gone frantic, he’s a-wooing of the mop, He’s braided up the bristles with a ribbon from the shop. He’s dancing on the quarterdeck with "Sally Long-and-Thin," While the rest of us are wondering where the devil we have been! Even the wooden figurehead is looking far too sweet, I’d offer her my rations for a chance to kiss her feet! (Chorus) Oh, the rigging’s looking shapely and the anchor’s looking fine, We’re squinting at the barnacles and wishing they were wine! It’s a long haul to New Orleans and we’ve lost our wits at sea, There’s not a soul among us who’s got any dignity! (Verse 4) The docks of New Orleans were a sight for blurry eyes, We scrambled down the gangplank chasing skirts of every size. But half the crew was cross-eyed and the other half was blind, Old Barnaby grabbed a bollard and he kissed it from behind! While the Cook was seen a-winking at a muddy river hog, And the Boatswain tried to marry a discarded crate of grog! (Chorus) Oh, the rigging’s looking shapely and the anchor’s looking fine, We’re squinting at the barnacles and wishing they were wine! It’s a long haul to New Orleans and we’ve lost our wits at sea, There’s not a soul among us who’s got any dignity! (Outro) Land ho! Land ho! Make the harbor quick! Before the Cook gets amorous, With a greasy candlewick! They threw us in the lock-up, They threw us in the bay, We’re heading back to Bristol, In the very same old way

The Desperate Crew