Cautionary Song Lyrics - Castaways And Cutouts - Decemberists

There's a place your mother goes 

When everybody else is soundly sleeping 

Through the lights of beacon street 

And if you listen, you can hear her weeping 

She's weeping, 'cause the gentlemen are calling 

And the snow is softly falling on her petticoats 

And she's standing in the harbour 

And she's waiting for the sailors in the jolly boat 

See how they approach 

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With dirty hands and trousers torn they grapple 

Till she's safe within their keeping 

A gag is placed between her lips 

To keep her sorry tongue from any speaking 

Or screaming and they row her out to packets where 

The sailor's sorry racket calls for maidenhead 

And she's scarce above the gunwales 

When her clothes fall to a bundle 

And she's laid in bed on the upper deck 

And so she goes from ship to ship 

Her ankles clasped, her arms so rudely pinioned 

Till at last she's satisfied the lot of the 

Marina's teeming minions and their opinions 

And they tell her not to say a thing to cousin 

Kindred, kith or kin or she'll end up dead 

And they throw her dirty dollars 

And return her to the habor where she goes to bed 

Photos 

And this is how you're fed 

So be kind to your mother, though she may seem 

An awful bother and the next time she tries to feed you 

Collard greens, remember what she does when you're asleep