Amsterdam
John Denver Lyrics

In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who sings
There's a sailor in Amsterdam who sings about the dreams he's had from his travels at sea.

Of the dreams that he brings from the wide-open sea.
He brings in dreams of distant lands and adventures, which he shares through his singing.

In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who sleeps
Amsterdam has a sailor who sleeps by the river, while the bank trees shed tears for him.

While the river bank weeps to the old willow tree.
The willow tree reflects the pain in the sailor's life and the memories the tree holds.

In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who dies
Amsterdam's port doesn't lack sailors who die fighting while drunk on beer.

Full of beer, full of cries in a drunkin' down fight.
These sailors lose their lives in drunken brawls that are a common sight in the port of Amsterdam.

But in the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who's born
Despite the deaths and miseries, the port of Amsterdam gives birth to new sailors every day.

On a muggy, hot morn by the dawn's early light.
Amsterdam's new sailors are born in the humid air of the port city, under the very first rays of sunlight.

In the port of Amsterdam where the sailors all meet
Sailors from all over gather in the port of Amsterdam to trade stories, share drinks, and enjoy the company of others.

There's a sailor who eats only fish-heads and tails.
There's a peculiar sailor in Amsterdam who prefers to eat only the discarded parts of fish.

He will show you his teeth that have rotted too soon.
Years of eating fish heads and tails have taken a toll on his teeth, which are beginning to rot and decay in his mouth.

That can swallow the moon that can haul up the sails.
Despite his challenging diet, he can still use his mouth to eat and work on sailing vessels.

And he asks to the cook with his arms open wide.
He eagerly asks the ship's cook for more food with arms wide open, indicating his hunger.

Bring me more fish, put it down by my side.
He asks for more of his favorite dish, even though it may cause him issues in the long run.

And he wants so to belch, but he's too full to try.
Despite his fullness, he still feels the need to burp but can't find enough room in his stomach.

So he gets up and he laughs and he zips up his fly.
After finishing his meal, he gets up, laughs, and tidies up before moving along.

In the port of Amsterdam, you can see sailors dance.
The port doesn't lack sailors who love to dance, with hips bursting out their pants in rhythm.

Haunches bursting their pants, binding woman to paunch.
Their dancing is comical but also seductive, physically attracting women toward them.

They've forgotten the tune that their whiskey voice croaks.
Their booze-induced singing is out of tune, but they still enjoy it despite forgetting the lyrics.

And they're splitting the night with the roar of their jokes.
The sailors' laughter is so loud that it echoes throughout the port, resonating with the off-key accordion they play.

And they turn and they dance and they laugh and they lust.
Sailors turn and continue their lively activities, full of laughter and lust in equal measure.

To the rats, it sounds of the accordion burst.
The sounds of laughter mixed with an out-of-tune accordion mix to make Amsterdam's rats dance too.

Then it's out into the night with their pride in their pants.
Their night of fun finally ends, and they exit the port, confident, and satisfied with their pride still in their pants.

With a slut that they tow underneath the street lamps.
They leave the port with their chosen companions, whom they would drag along the street lamps to their final destination.

In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who drinks.
The port has its share of sailors who drink, and among them is a particular sailor known for his excessive drinking.

And he drinks and he drinks and he drinks once again.
He drinks to take away his pain or perhaps to forget a broken heart, a habit that has become a pattern over time.

He drinks to the health of the whores of Amsterdam.
He drinks a toast to the whores who have promised to love those in the port of Amsterdam.

Who have promised their love to a thousand other men.
But the promise of love made to so many other sailors makes that toast nothing more than a bitter irony.

And they darken their bodies, and their virtue long gone,
The whores of Amsterdam have lost their virtue long ago, as evident in how they darken their bodies to seem more attractive to clients.

For a few dirty coins.
For a few coins, they will lose themselves to the sailors they hardly know and care for.

And then when he can't go on, he plants his nose in the sky.
Exhausted from drinking, he looks up into the sky and sighs with regret and sorrow.

And he wipes it up above.
He wipes the tears that roll down his face and upward to the heavens as he tries to forget his worries.

And he splits like I cry for an unfaithful love.
He leaves, but his heart and soul remain behind, aching and suffering like a heartbroken lover betrayed by those they trusted in.

In the port of Amsterdam.
The Port of Amsterdam holds no shortage of stories, some bitter, some sweet, and some somewhere in-between.

In the port of Amsterdam.
The port is a place where sailors meet to engage in conversations and connect with someone who shares their life on the sea.

In the port of Amsterdam.
The port is a home away from home for many sailors, where they can let their guard down and enjoy some companionship among friends.