The Ballad of St. Jack

Far over the sea
Under a sycamore tree
There's a girl so fair, with flowers in her hair
And I know that she's waiting for me

I was born on a tropical breeze
Fresh from the South China seas
I never asked more than to rarely touch shore
And to not have to live on my knees

And I've known since I was 6 years old
That the winds of this world are controlled
Except for the sea and a man's memories
There is nothing that cannot be sold

Once I had me a wife or two
In Taipei and Honolulu
Now nothing remains but the sound of their names
Some letters and faded tattoos

From the docks to the shacks
They all knew Saint Jack
The Apostle of old Singapore

Now the streets are the same
But the names have all changed
This isn't my town anymore

The soldiers lined up at my door
Hungry for whiskey and whores
They'd fight in the halls
Scratch their names on the walls,
Like their fathers did in the last war

But I got just a little too proud
Tried to run with that "black sunglass" crowd
They took all of my girls and busted my pearls
And I learned to never talk too loud

There's an angel with a bright golden grin
At the bottom of this bottle of gin
If I swallow her down
She might just show me how
To be at peace with the sins I have sinned

Far over the sea
Under a sycamore tree
There's a girl buried there, with flowers in her hair
And I know that she's waiting for me