The Plight of the Condor
The Caesarea to Guernsey, fish and chips
The good old days, when ships set out
Whatever the weather, on long trips
High wind, they sailed on, no washout
The Condor hydrofoil, so small and sleek
Went to Alderney, St Malo, and even Sark
The days before hubris, modest and meek
Sailing on time, embark and disembark
And now, delays, breakdowns, it never ends
I feel so sad, so sorry that it comes to this
Always things going wrong, more to mends
It seems as if we are sailing towards an abyss
The condor flies high above tempestuous sea
And the ancient mariner struggles to flee
No comments:
Post a Comment