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!

O hear ye now - the cannons 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 await their dullards' lives
Of mutton eaten, horses rid,
The stronger beating cowards hid.

But for now, they heroes all
And list'ning to the dying call
The 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.


Wind it blows across my hair
As waiting here, I sit and stare
And only waiting for my man
Who I will never see again.

A woman with her baby cries
To see this sight of no more lies.
Her husband's washed up on the beach
With her fingers she does reach

To touch his rotten, eaten flesh
That only she had known the best.
Weeks she waited, now the end
Her man has 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).

Ad 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 pit'ous moans
As they cry and groan and weep
Don't wake us too much from our sleep.