we're in it now up to our necks. The western basin of Lake Erie is no place for amateurs on a storm tossed night with too many players in a high stakes game
With lives in the balance and cash on the line
Where sailors die without a trace
On hellish nights with a nor-east blow
And the sky's as black as the devil's soul
The shoal will kill your boat for sure
If a master's course is not secure
We're threading its needle and going strong
Loaded with Rye for Miquelon
Jim me lad its time for true
We're on a run for the Chicago crew
Old Al is waiting at Middle Isle
For this cargo of rot gut smile
Now me hearty it not so bad
Its cash we'll have bear west a tad
A nasty night's a fine chance
To beat the G men at their dance
Now watch your course there my young Jim
Those rocks'll make for a chilly swim
If Old Jake grounds out here tonight
It'll be the devil to pay that's the right
Easy now a few points to port
That's the style me boy you're quite the sport
That foam to starboard will be our doom
Listen to the sound of that surf boom
Good lad we're through it now
What's that light off the starboard bow
A customs launch I'll bet my stars
Easy now bring Jake up
Its smart that wins here sure nuff
Evening sir I take the lead
How can we help his majesty's
Service this ugly night
Our cargo's export that's the right
Bound for Miquilon in St Larence gulf
Aye sir a nasty night sure enough
Papers in order sir as you see
Jim bear off out of their lee
Aye close that was says you
And smart to have those papers too
Old Al will not be in the best of sorts
If this cargo goes to his majesty's courts
Look there's the moon
It's light welcome and none too soon
See the light abaft the beam
That be Middle Isle it would seem
See the boat out there just abaft
Its Al for sure or I'll be daft
There's something wrong
I'll bet my cap
Another vessel its a trap
Hard over Jim be quick you know
The G men's launch there'll stove
Us in and sink the Jake
I'll wager sure that's my take
Its a short run from here to Hen
We'll be clear of them all for sure by then
Canada's not their bailiwick
In five minutes we'll be safe old stick
This story's long and my time is short
We'll end it on another snort
Come back when my throat's less dry
I'll tell you a tale of bootleg rye
Poetry by josephus
Read 538 times
Written on 2019-03-14 at 03:06
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With lives in the balance and cash on the line
III The Laird Jake...Chickenoli Reef
Chickenoli reef's a dreadful placeWhere sailors die without a trace
On hellish nights with a nor-east blow
And the sky's as black as the devil's soul
The shoal will kill your boat for sure
If a master's course is not secure
We're threading its needle and going strong
Loaded with Rye for Miquelon
Jim me lad its time for true
We're on a run for the Chicago crew
Old Al is waiting at Middle Isle
For this cargo of rot gut smile
Now me hearty it not so bad
Its cash we'll have bear west a tad
A nasty night's a fine chance
To beat the G men at their dance
Now watch your course there my young Jim
Those rocks'll make for a chilly swim
If Old Jake grounds out here tonight
It'll be the devil to pay that's the right
Easy now a few points to port
That's the style me boy you're quite the sport
That foam to starboard will be our doom
Listen to the sound of that surf boom
Good lad we're through it now
What's that light off the starboard bow
A customs launch I'll bet my stars
Easy now bring Jake up
Its smart that wins here sure nuff
Evening sir I take the lead
How can we help his majesty's
Service this ugly night
Our cargo's export that's the right
Bound for Miquilon in St Larence gulf
Aye sir a nasty night sure enough
Papers in order sir as you see
Jim bear off out of their lee
Aye close that was says you
And smart to have those papers too
Old Al will not be in the best of sorts
If this cargo goes to his majesty's courts
Look there's the moon
It's light welcome and none too soon
See the light abaft the beam
That be Middle Isle it would seem
See the boat out there just abaft
Its Al for sure or I'll be daft
There's something wrong
I'll bet my cap
Another vessel its a trap
Hard over Jim be quick you know
The G men's launch there'll stove
Us in and sink the Jake
I'll wager sure that's my take
Its a short run from here to Hen
We'll be clear of them all for sure by then
Canada's not their bailiwick
In five minutes we'll be safe old stick
This story's long and my time is short
We'll end it on another snort
Come back when my throat's less dry
I'll tell you a tale of bootleg rye
Poetry by josephus
Read 538 times
Written on 2019-03-14 at 03:06
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
