The Sailor Still Sings Prose in Morova | World Anvil
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The Sailor Still Sings

"How's about one last song, folks?" cried the bard, balancing a stringed instrument against his knee. He was, of course, met with riotous cheers, as the patrons of the Pious Preacherman tavern were by now deep into their cups. This was a working man's establishment, full of sailors and dockworkers, so the bard decided that he would close out with a tune tailored to the clientele. He smiled his winningest grin as he hefted his bow, proclaiming to the crowd, "Go along if you know the words, this is 'The Sailor Still Sings!'"

I once knew a boy who lived by the bay;
And sang with a voice as bright as the day.
So if by the bay you’re listening,
You just might hear the good lad sing!

Strong as a tree and tall as one too,
There weren't a lad or a lass he di'n't woo!
So there wasn't a soul who thought he would say:
'I'm joining the navy, I'm sailing away!'

Sailing away, sailing away,
Curse that boy for his stubborn way,
Now if by the bay you’re listening,
No longer will you hear him sing.

They say one day there was a mighty brawl
That made the hearts of men grow small
But our good lad? he did not sway!
And with his blade held evil at bay.

Sailing away, sailing away,
Hail to the sailor who saved the day,
And amongst the crewmen’s revelry
he blessed them with his melody!

It’s fifty years now since the fight,
Where the lad from the bay proved his might.
No one quite knows where he lay
But he sure ain’t dead, or so they say!

Sailing away, sailing away,
Rest easy now, you’ve earned your stay
Now if by the bay, the winds are blowing,
They say you can hear a young lad sing.


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