Brandy

There's a port on a western bay
And it serves a hundred ships a day
Lonely sailors pass the time away
And talk about their homes

And there's a girl, in this harbor town
And she works, laying whiskey down
They say "Brandy, fetch another round"
She serves them whiskey and wine

The sailors say "Brandy, you're a fine girl
What a good wife you would be
Yeah your eyes could steal a sailor