A Cautionary Song

There's a place your mother goes

When everybody else is soundly sleeping

Through the lights of beacon street

And if you listen, you can hear her weeping

She's weeping

'Cause the gentlemen are calling

And the snow is softly falling

On her petticoats

And she's standing in the harbor

And she's waiting for the sailors

In the jolly boat

See how they approach?

With dirty hands and trousers torn

They grapple till she's safe within their keeping

A gag is placed between her lips

To keep her sorry tongue from any speaking

Or screamin'

And they row her out to packets

Where the sailor's sorry racket

Calls for maidenhead

And she's scarce above the gunwales

When her clothes fall to a bundle

And she's laid in bed

On the upper deck

And so she goes from ship to ship

Her ankles clasped, her arms so rudely pinioned

Till at last she's satisfied

The lot of the marina's teeming minions

In their opinions

And they tell her not to say a thing

To cousin, kindred, kith or kin

Or she'll end up dead

And they throw her thirty dollars

And return her to the harbor

Where she goes to bed

And this is how you're fed

So be kind to your mother

Though she may seem an awful bother

And the next time she tries to feed you collard greens

Remember what she does when you're asleep

Remember what she does when you're asleep