Page 123
This tune is a favorite around the camp file and especially of Eberwulf. The lyrics are an English version of Jacques Brel's Amsterdam as sung by David Bowie on 'Bowie at the Beeb - the best of the BBC sessions 68-72'.
after David Bowie

    Port of Amsterdam, The

    by Jacques Brel
    In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who sings
    Of the dreams that he brings from a wide open sea

    And in the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who sleeps
    While the river bank weeps to the old willow tree

    And in the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who dies
    Full of beers full of cries in a drunken down fight

    And in the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who is born
    On the hot muggy morn by the dawns early light


    In the port of Amsterdam where the sailors all meet
    There's a sailor who eats only fish heads and tails

    He'll show you his teeth that have rotted too soon
    That can haul up the sails that can swallow the moon

    And he'll yell to the cook with his arms open wide
    Oh bring me more fish though it's down by my side

    And he wants so to belch but he's too full to try
    So he stands up and laughs and he zips up his fly


    In the port of Amsterdam you can see sailors dance
    Paunches bursting their pants grinding women's with paunch (?)

    They've for- gotten the tune that their whiskey voice croaks
    Splitting the night with the roar of their jokes

    And they turn and they dance and they laugh and they lust
    Till the rancid sound of the ac- cordion bursts

    And then out of the night with their pride in their pants
    And the slut that they tow under- neath the street lamps


    In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who drinks
    And he drinks and he drinks, and he drinks once again

    Oh he drinks to the health of the whores of Amsterdam
    Who have given their bodies to a thousand other men

    It's their worth and their goodness; their virtues all gone
    For the few dirty coins when he just can't go on

    Throws his nose to the sky and he aims it up above
    And he pisses like I cry for an unfaithful love

    In the port of Amsterdam
    In the port of Am- ster- dam