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