He must go down to the sea again
To the lonely sea and sky
And all he asks is good kayak
And shore to steer her by.
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Sunset and morning star
Are one clear call for him,
For there will be mourning in the bar
'Cause the next round was on him.
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Amos drove with a curse
The wild drake and the duck
From the seal-infested shores
And screamed, "Now what the f**k!
"I only lifted my kayak
Off the roof of the car
And now I am doomed to a rupture
Now and forever more!
Never again to put into the water,
Never again to paddle the seals,
To pit muscle and skill 'gainst the ocean
Until after the incision heals!
At least six weeks a landlubber,
Six weeks on the old terra firm'
Six weeks without a roll-over
Where I wallow in sewage and germ!
There's naught now for me but the rocker
Or to hang 'round the barnacled docks
An old salt just dreamin' of kayaks
And how he used to crash on the rocks.
There's naught for me now but The Bowline,
Where I can sit and tell salty lies
About kraken and whalefish and mermaids
And Zeroes that streaked from the skies.
And the women in Papua, New Guinea
Or the girls 'round the docks in Shanghai
And Liverpool Lou who told me to "Shoo!"
When she found out I had not lost an eye.
Oh why did I take up kayaking?
Or buy one as heavy as lead?
For now I think I am ruptured
From my toenails up to my head.