I sleep with another in a bunk built for one.
Oh, I sleep with another in a bunk built for one.
After all the things I’ve done
In the shade of the setting sun
I sleep with another in a bunk built for one.

He wraps his tattoed arms around my waist
Oh, he wraps his tattoed arms around my waist
And though I claim I’m chaste
He says he wants a little taste
He wraps his tattoed arms around my waist

I lie awake at night from his cold toes
Lord, I lie awake at night from his cold toes
But I prefer his frozen toes
Than his probing, pointed hose
I lie awake at night from his cold toes.