Amsterdam

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who sing
The dreams that haunt them
Off the coast of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who sleep
Like flags
Along the dreary banks
In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who die
Full of beer and dramas
At the first light
But in the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who are born
In the thick heat
Of oceanic languor

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who eat
On overly white tablecloths
With dripping fish
They show you teeth
To bite into fortune
To unhook the moon
To devour the rigging
And it smells of cod
Even in the heart of the fries
That their big hands invite
To come back for more
Then they rise laughing
In a stormy noise
Zip up their fly
And leave burping

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who dance
Rubbing their bellies
On women's bellies
And they spin and they dance
Like spit out suns
In the torn sound
Of a stale accordion
They twist their necks
To hear each other laugh better
Until suddenly
The accordion expires
Then the gesture solemn
Then the proud look
They bring back their Dutchman
Into the full light

In the port of Amsterdam
There are sailors who drink
And drink and drink again
And drink again
They drink to the health
Of the whores of Amsterdam
Of Hamburg or elsewhere
Finally they drink to the ladies
Who give them their pretty bodies
Who give them their virtue
For a piece of gold
And when they have drunk well
They stick their noses to the sky
Blow their noses in the stars
And they piss like I cry
On unfaithful women
In the port of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam