Can’t You Dance the Polka? (II)

Oh shipmates if you you’ll listen to me I’ll tell you in my song
Of things that lately happened when I come home from Hong Kong

To me way you Santee, my dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, can’t you dance the polka?

As I walked down beside the dock, a fair maid I did meet
She asked me for to see her home, and she lived on Bleecker Street

Says I, "My dear young lady, I’m a stranger here in town,
I left my ship just yesterday and for Boston I am bound"

Says she, "Well come along with me and you shall have a treat,
For you shall have some brandy, dear, and something good to eat"

When we got down to Bleecker Street we stopped at 44
Her twenty so-called "sisters" was awaiting at the door

They gave me wine, it tasted fine, but it went right to my head
Then they threw their clothes away and they carried me to bed

When I awoke next morning, all naked in the dawn
My clothes and all my money and them lady friends was gone

Now I don’t miss the money as some other sailors might,
But I wish I could remember if I had some fun that night!

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