Comely Row

'I'm Popeye the sailorman' Or whichever old tune he sang Spiced up with a few hot damns The sailorman The sailorman He made a comely row of trees On each side of the country road So that a daily sort of man Driving beneath them in his lumber wagon Might fancy himself lord of a private road Right after the first few notes All the goats turned their heads They would get fed He was a tall lanky guy With stooped shoulders and a shy seemed studious face 'Popeye the Sailorman' The sailorman He made a comely row of trees On each side of the country road So that a daily sort of man Driving beneath them in his lumber wagon Might fancy himself lord of a private road Right after the first few notes All the goats turned their heads They would get fed