I think most here know of it, but the 'Dead Horse' ritual was
played out at sea by British sailors on the 30th day...the day
they'd worked off their advance and now were earning pay that
went to them.

They'd hoist the effigy of a horse to the end of the main yard,
after parading it around on deck, and drop him in the drink.

A poor old man came riding by
AND WE SAY SO AND WE HOPE SO
A poor old man came riding by
OH POOR OLD HORSE

Says I, "Old man, your horse will die,"
Says I, "Old man, your horse will die."

And if he dies we'll tan his skin,
And if he don't we'll ride him again.

For one long month I rode him hard,
For one long month we all rode him hard.

But now your month is up, old Turk,
Get up, you swine, and look for work.

Get up you swine and look for graft,
While we lays on and drags ye aft.

He's as dead as a nail in the lamp-room door,
And he won't come worrying us no more.

We'll use the hair of his tail to sew our sails,
And the iron of his shoe to make deck nails.

We'll hoist him up to the fore yard-arm,
Where he won't do sailors any harm.

We'll drop him down with a long, long roll,
Where the sharks will have his body and the devil take his soul.

(At that moment, a sailor would cut the rope used to hoist
the effigy to the leeward end of the yard-arm, and the 'dead
horse' would meet its Lord in the briny)

But that wasn't the only 'old horse' reference to be found
at sea:

As a protest song at the quality of the meat served
onboard:

"Old Horse! Old Horse! What brought you here?
From Sacarap to Portland Pier,
I've carted stone this many a year;
'Til, kilt by blows and sore abuse -
they salted me down for sailor's use.

The sailors they do me despise,
they turn me over and damn my eyes;
cut my meat and pick my bones,
and pitch the rest to Davy Jones."