Yes, ’twas a frightful night on the sea, and many are missing, I think,
But as near as I can remember, I never missed a drink.
The one in blue got my spark, waiter, her side pal got my clock.
Oh, I don’t want to know the time, waiter, just lead me down to the dock,
Yes, lead me down to the dock, waiter, for a watery grave I pine,
The place for a man that’s pickled is over his head in the brine.
Just tell them I am at the “Murray” cure, waiter, that I died as a hero should;
Up to my neck in the cold old suds, guaranteed drawn from the wood.
Say, after I’ve sank in the deep, waiter, you’ll do me one favor, I hope,
Tell ’em if I blow up bubbles that ’twasn’t from eating soap.