Dm Dm/A Dm Dm/A G/D There's a place your mother goes, when everybody else is soundly sleepingDm Dm/A Through the lights of beacon streetDm Dm/A G And if you listen you can hear her weeping,A Bb She's weeping, cause the gentlemen are callingF And the snow is softly falling on her petticoats.Bb And she's standing in the harbourF And she's waiting for the sailors in the jolly boat.A See how they approachDm Dm/A Dm Dm/A With dirty hands and trousers torn they grapple 'til she's safeG/D within their keepingDm Dm/A Dm Dm/A A gag is placed between her lips to keep her sorry tongue fromG A any speaking, or screamingBb And they row her out to packets where the sailor's sorry racketF calls for maidenheadBb And she's scarce above the gunwales when her clothes fall to aF A bundle and she's laid in bed on the upper deck [Interlude]Gm A Gm A La la la la laa,la la la laa, [Verse]Dm Dm/A Dm Dm/A And so she goes from ship to ship, her ankles clasped, her armsG/D so rudely pinionedDm Dm/A Dm Dm/A Till at last she's satisfied the lot of the marina's teemingG A minions, in their opinionsBb And they tell her not to say a thing to cousin, kindred, kith orF kin or she'll end up deadBb And they throw her thirty dollars and return her to the harbourF A where she goes to bed, and this is how you're fedGm A So be kind to your mother, though she may seem an awful bother,Gm A and the next time she tries to feed you collard greens,A Dm Remember what she does when you're asleep
A Cautionary Song
The Decemberists
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