Fishermen - The Tiger Lillies

On the portside whores are singing

While the rubbers they are flinging

From a night of fornicating

From a night of lubricating

With sailors far away

While the sun it is setting

The fishermen are netting

The whores, sperm they are begetting

The whores, sperm they are forgetting

Of sailors far away

And the sailors they are itching

Their syphilis is twitching

A gift Of those bewitching

Whores now far away

The sailors they are singing

For soon they will be drowning

In the sea on which they’re sailing

Their lives they will be failing

On seas now far away