I was sitting in an old-school pub, my memories and me
A lot of drinks, a lot of songs, the next round was for free
A man was sitting next to me, his hair was long and grey
He'd lost one eye, one wodden leg and he had much to say
He smoked a lot of cigarrettes, his voice was rough and deep
So many scars upon his face, his skin was thick and weak
He was the old buccaneer and he said: "My friend, come on over, lend an ear."
He was the old buccaneer, my friend, come on over, lend an ear
yellowed
words
whole
stories
songs
sitting
school
scars
friend
kisses
voice
drinks
fingers
remained
thick
drank
cruel
wierd
fights
beloved
booze
smoked
girls
inside
through
kitchen
feared
looked
beside
round
memories
place
night
pearls
rough
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