Tattoos Poem by George Hunter

There was an old sailor from Brest
Had a big tattoo on his chest
Death Before Dishonor it read
A noble sentiment it is said
Hard to live up to by even the the best.

Saw another on a swabbie from Rome
Translated it said Sailing Home
A distant dream for most of these tars
Who spend most shore time in foreign bars.
Had a picture of a full-rigged clipper
With wind and waves and the Big Dipper
To point the way home by the North Star
When sailing the oceans way afar.

One had a mermaid on his breast
Which seemed to swim across his chest.
Anchors and ships and naked wimmen
And all kinds of fish that you see swimmin’
And don’t forget Home and Mom and Heaven above
And your girlfriend or wife whom you still love.

Birds and butterflys and tribal tattoos
Anything goes when you’re under the booze.
Crosses, crowns, and religious stuff
Seeming out of place on guys so rough
Maybe a last chance to save their hide
When the weather gets rough on the ocean wide.

It’s an ancient tradition to ink your skin
To show off the ports that you’ve been in.
These pictures just show their hopes and fears
From being at sea for years and years.
With calms and storms and gales so rough
A sailor’s life can be oh so tough.

So when on the beach on a lib-er-tee
It’s a wonderful feeling to feel so free.
Have a good time ‘cause it’ll go astray
When the bosun shouts out Anchors Aweigh!
And you sail away to a far horizion
Into the sun at the break of day.