Remembering back when i was a kid, i'd slip down to the docks
to watch the old men carving wood, watch the sailors tying knots
but the thing i remember best was grey-haired old patch-eye
and the stories that he'd tell me 'bout his younger days
as we watched those ships go by hfill
he'd talk about his missing eye, he'd talk all about his wooden leg
but he never talked about the old tattoo on his right arm that said ''meg''
He said he was captain of a pirate ship sailing seas both blue and green
then he said that all pirate's got to have have a patch so as they
can look real mean
he'd made the bad guys walk the plank, the pretty ladies he would save
and then he'd take the treasure from the ship and then he'd sink it
to a watery grave
he'd talk about his missing eye, he'd talk about his wooden leg
but he'd never talk about the old tattoo of brown-haired,
blue-eyed meg
He told me a story 'bout his wooden leg as he sat there spinning yarns
once he lost it to a mamba snake, down in the amazon
another time it was way out west in a gunfight, or so he said
oh but that's all right boy, man's got to legs, you know he could have
lost his head
he told me all about his missing eye, he told me all about his wooden leg
but he took the story to the grave about the tattoo
that said ''meg''
He told me how he lost his eye and how he lost leg
but he never told me how he lost the love of brown-haired,
blue-eyed meg