“There’s a lot
In a knot,”
Bill’d say
While working away
With fingers as hard
As the tarred
Rough hemp that he’d fashion and splice
With handiwork nice
And precise
Into many a seaman’s device -
Turk’s Head, stopper and wall,
Mathew Walker and all.
“There’s a lot
In a knot . . .

There’s hitches and bends
Good enough for their ends
You make shift
With and cast ‘em adrift
And they’re done . . .
There’s others just fancy fal-lals
Like the dollied-up gals
A man courts
In the ports
For his fun . . .
And there’s some like the one
(Or two, if he’s lucky enough!)
best pal a man finds in his puff,
that’ll hold on and hold
till Hell’s cold
and beyond . . . There’s a lot
In a knot.”