Bird As Fish

In sight of shore, these ships they meet
Two mountains on the choppy sea
Here they bide 'til break of day
When whips shall crack then all away!

Oh hear ye now, the cannon's shot
The blackest barrels searing hot.
They shall await the coming day
When they all shall back away

And travel home to waiting wives
And shall resume their dullard's lives
Of mutton eaten, horses rid,
The stronger beating cowards hid

But for now, they heroes all
And list'ning to the dying call
They ships they sink, yes one and all
To never more the other pall.

The wives they stand awaiting day.
When the men come home, they pray,
Theirs has not perished far a-sea
Where waiting, hungry teeth may be.

Nothing ever does compare
To salt winds blowing through your hair
As waiting comes on waiting times
As waiting almost never blinds

But only ever longs the times
Of waiting. It is never kind
To women as they wait for men
Who never will come home again.

The magistrates with taller hats
Express regrets for being last
To leave this earth, a mortal ball
(We know they don't mean it all).

And now that all the prayers are said
Let us all retire to bed,
To problems about cargo lost
And replacing it at cost.

Let the widows cry alone
And pray that their pitious moans
As they cry and groan and weep
Don't wake us too much from our sleep.

© 2003 All rights reserved MJ Jackson
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