Old lady with a barrow; life near ending
Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending
children on the cold sea swell —
not fishers of men —
gone to chase away the last herring:
come empty home again.
So come all you lovers of the good life
on your supermarket run —
Set a sail of your own devising
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring
Sad cargo of an old ship young bodies whoring
Slow ocean hobo — ports closed to her crew
No hope of immigration — keep passing through.
So come all you lovers of the good life
your children playing in the sun —
set a sympathetic flag a-flying
and be there when the Dutchman comes.
Death grinning like a scarecrow — Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere — try and touch one
as she sails in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain —
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror —
it’s the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.