A sailor talks of far away lands and the ports where he would like to be,
He relates to all in a salty drawl, his love for the roll of the sea.
Let’s hear him boast of powers so great, let’s hear of his deeds so bold,
Let’s hear him tell of seas of hell, and the treasures he’s bought and sold.
Let’s hear his yarn of the south sea Isles, his romance on balis shores,
Or the girl he had with eyes so sad in the land of the sliding doors.
And let me tell you what you never hear, of the loneliness that tortures his soul,
When the sun’s last light gives into night, he’s a dreamer, not a sailor so bold.
Yes, a sailor dreams when the sun goes down, and the wind lies slack on the sea,
Of the heavenly bliss of a woman’s kiss, and the home where he longs to be.
There a lamp burns low thru the lonely night, there a heart waits patiently,
There tears are shed as a prayer is said for a sailor who dreams at sea.
To live his past let no man wish for there is more than the tales he told,
Though his laugh is long and his heart is strong, inside he wrestles his soul.
Leon Russell Garrett