THE REAL OLD GAFFER I want to be an old gaffer I want to look weathered and old And go to those OGA rallies To see how much drink I can hold I want to be a good sailor I won’t let it go to my head And beat to windward all the day Without using the engine instead Chorus: I am a real Old Gaffer My trousers are held up with string I spread Stockholm tar on my sandwiches And drink beer with everything I lack a big bushy beard And proper old gaffers will mock If I wear my smart Musto oilskins Instead of a beer stained smock When I come into the beer tent You may think my taste rather queer I’d rather a chilled glass of Chardonnay Than a big pint of nice foaming beer Chorus: I’ve got some nice yellow wellies Though I don’t like to sail in the rain I’m not very brave when the wind blows But my heart swells with pride just the same I know I’m not that authentic With a boat made of grp But she still draws admiring glances Which is more than can be said for me Chorus:
