Song parody of
A Place To Moor
by CalebJames
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They set sail before dawn with a storm rolling in off the coast
Put paid to the warnings although they were much braver than most
But the truth is the vultures were circling long before that
Either bring home the fish or their homes would go back to the bank
A whiskey for courage and a coin in the ocean for luck
The last 40 days their small boat had not either of much
Eyes on the point and the stars and a compass for sight
'Til they saw rolling in, only darkness where there should be light
And all of these halls
Filled with voices and calls
From the souls of the rich and the poor
All these pockets with holes
Leaking sea to the shores
And the heart only wants a place to moor
The waves were like hands trying to steal able men from the boards
While they rammed home the hatches to save what they could of their haul
Holding thoughts in their pockets, for their lovers, their wives and their young
Waiting back in the commons, for fathers and husbands and sons
The cap' fought the wheel and the wind like a primitive sport
With the wind tearing hard at the clews tryin' to keep him from port
When it tore through the mainsail the old boat was stripped to the bone
And the sea reached to claim what the sky had betrayed far below
They set sail before dawn with a storm rolling in off the coast
Put paid to the warnings although they were much braver than most
But the truth is the vultures were circling long before that
Either bring home the fish or their homes would go back to the bank
A whiskey for courage and a coin in the ocean for luck
The last 40 days their small boat had not either of much
Eyes on the point and the stars and a compass for sight
'Til they saw rolling in, only darkness where there should be light
And all of these halls
Filled with voices and calls
From the souls of the rich and the poor
All these pockets with holes
Leaking sea to the shores
And the heart only wants a place to moor
The waves were like hands trying to steal able men from the boards
While they rammed home the hatches to save what they could of their haul
Holding thoughts in their pockets, for their lovers, their wives and their young
Waiting back in the commons, for fathers and husbands and sons
The cap' fought the wheel and the wind like a primitive sport
With the wind tearing hard at the clews tryin' to keep him from port
When it tore through the mainsail the old boat was stripped to the bone
And the sea reached to claim what the sky had betrayed far below
