In Amsterdam's port
There are sailors singing
The dreams that haunt them
By Amsterdam's seashore
In Amsterdam's port
There are sailors sleeping
Like banners
Along the gloomy seaside
In Amsterdam's port
There are sailors dying
Full of beers and dramas
Since the very first gleams
But in Amsterdam's port
There are sailors getting to life
In the thick heat
Of the ocean's tiredness

In Amsterdam's port
There are sailors eating
On tableclothes that are too white
Off the fishes slithering
They're showing you the teeth
Biting the luck
Till they wane the Moon
Just biting the shrouds
And it smells cod
Far up to the french fries' core
That their big hands invite
To come up again
Then stand up as they laugh
In a storm's noises
Sliding up their codpiece
And go out burping
In Amsterdam's port
There are sailors dancing
Rubbing their belly
To the women's bellies
And they're turning and dancing
Like spitten suns
In the deafening sound
Of a tasteless accordion
They're twirling their necks
To hear them laugh better
Until all of a sudden
The accordion breathes out
Then with a rude move
Then with a proud look
They bring up their flander
Up to the bright light

In Amsterdam's port
There are sailors drinking
And drinking and re-drinking
And re-drinking again
They're drinking for the fortune
Of all Amsterdam's whores
From Hamburg and elsewhere
Finally they drink to the ladies
Who give them their nice bodies
Who give them their virtue
For a golden piece
And when they have well drunk
And pin their nose to they sky
Blowing their nose in the stars
And they piss like I cry
On the unfaithful women
In Amsterdam's port
In Amsterdam's port