Come gather, ye sailors, for a rowdy, salt-soaked night,

With My Druthers and The Ranzo Boys to lift your spirits bright!

Doors at 8, show at 9, 10 doubloons gets ya in

My Druthers

Oh, My Druthers be a hearty New London crew,

With voices that ring like the wind blowing true.

They gather ’round the mast with a stomp and a cheer,

Singing tales of the coast and the cold frothing beer.

With harmonies bold and a spirit unbent,

They’ll lift ye up higher than canvas or tent.

So raise up the chorus and answer their call—

For My Druthers be sailors who give it their all!

The Ranzo Boys

Oh Ranzo boys from Hudson’s side,
Where neon meets the turning tide,
With voices proud and spirits free,
They sing of love on every sea,

No narrow code nor sailor’s line
Could bind a heart so bold as thine,
So raise your glass and hear them true
The tide rolls in with Ranzo’s crew.