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THE FISHFINGER SONG (Miles Whooton) Come all ye jolly sail-i-ers, who sail across the sea; And listen to this story I'm about to tell to thee. Concerning them bold Fish-iar lads who sail the seas so wet; A-hunting for fish fingers, with a harpoon and a net. 'Twas in the year of '64,or was it' 63- We set sail from Basingstoke , bound for Amer-i-key. The storms they was a-ra-ji-ing, and the waves a dreadful sight; It took us forty days, me boys, to reach the Isle of Wight. Our Captain's name was Gladys, he wore a dress of red; Which might have been the reason he was not marr-i-ed. He was a gay old sea-bitch and it was his fav-our-ite joy, To take a turn around the deck with the handsome cabin boy. And then off Iceland's icy shores, a mighty shoal we spied; Of Froz-i-en Fish Fin-gi-ers, a-waiting to be fried. With our harpoons at the ready my boys, upon that shoal we burst; A-las, we was too late me lads, the Japanese had got there first. Them Nippon lads came at we, they was a terrible crew; A-brandishing tran-sis-ti-ers, and a-giving it the old Kung-Fu. We sang them a sea shan-ti-ee, but they did not want to know; And they slashed away our mizzen mast with one Karate blow. We got back to old Eng-gi-land in a twelve month and a day; It would have been much quicker, but we went the pretty way. Take warning all ye sail-i-or lads what sails the sea in ships Don't ever go fish fing-i-ering, just stick to Cod and Chips @fishing filename[ FISHFING BX apr00 |
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