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There hangs an old sou'wester
From a hook on a weathered old door,
And when it was young it kept off the sun
And sheltered a man from the storm.
Now it's tattered and torn, an eyesore to some.
Just hangs there no more to be worn,
No more to be worn.
There hangs an old sou'wester,
And tho' it's seen better days,
It's course has been run,
It's purpose is done,
But I can't seem to throw it away.
They say that old sou'wester
Could tell a story or two;
And if it could speak, what tales it would leak
Of a crusty old man and his crew.
Tho' it's tattered and torn, it's weathered the storm.
Now it hangs there, no more to be worn,
No more to be worn.
There hangs an old sou'wester,
And tho' it's seen better days,
It's course has been run,
It's purpose is done,
But I can't seem to throw it away.
