The tired old trawler's in the harbor

gently rocking and home from the sea

Children playing in the rigging

Sun is sinking, their;s peace in the bay

But on the backstreets laden with taverns

Drunken men weave a ragged course with their feet

One young fellow cold and sober

Winds his way though the dark dirty streets

Rain is falling and by morning

He knocks at a window and waits by the door

A weary, worn woman comes to the doorway

And in his eyes this haggard creature's a fawn

He follows after to her chamber

She quiets the candles that show her cracked walls

One hundred shillings worth of loving

And years of lonliness have small rewards

But then far off there comes a clanging

The captain is calling farewell to the shore

Riptide is in and love is left hanging

Bound to sail for too many years