The Glasson Dock Beguiler

In not quite Saint Tropez near the river mouth at Heysham
The members of the yacht club stood around their boats one evening
Upon the pearly port side of Michael's Ruby Tortoise
Was written all in blood 'You'd better watch your backs my rich boys'

Hung from off the gunwale was poor Michael's wife Jemima
The yacht folk hung their heads and breathed 'the Glasson Dock Beguiler'
They say he roamed the quayside a prowler in a false skin
Inside the Dalton Arms awaiting rich women to lure in

'Twas Jackie's wife Helena after rowing since her wedding
Did find herself approached, the man enquired to where she's heading
'I'm off to drown my sorrows and pretend I'm happy living'
The stranger said 'You'll be alright my love' then she walked with him

When sat upon the jetty after long one-sided talking
Helena asked her stranger, 'what of you? And why're you helping?'
He said 'this dock's my home, it used to be a trader's outpost
But now it's yachts and chalets since the devil took the hindmost'

'I've not become a postman, I've not become a filer
I live for killing harlots, I'm the Glasson Dock Beguiler
When they need a shoulder, when their husbands will forsake them
I'll take and kill and show them that I think they are the heathen'

In not quite Saint Tropez near the river mouth at Heysham
The members of the yacht club stood around their boats one evening
Upon the pearly port side of Jackie's Pendle Porpoise
Was written all in blood 'You'd better watch your backs my rich boys'