The man on the boat in the astrakhan coat

Looked cold.

The man in two hats who was wearing white spats

And a vest on his chest which read fishermen do it best

Looked old.

The man at the tiller who was called Roderick miller

Was wearing flippers as slippers while trying to catch kippers

Looked odd.

Another man at the wheel was planning to steal

This slug of a tug from the man in the coat

who had mortgaged the boat

So he could provide for his bride

(and a bit on the side)

But this boat of which I wrote drew a sixteen foot draft

Fourteen feet of it aft.

Where the fat fisherman stood with his head in a hood.

Then a storm came along and with the rain and the thunder

Started to pull the old boat from Hull  under.

All hands went down on the boat which was owned by the man in the coat.

And the sharks and the cod and the wrasse and the ray

sat on the wreck and had fresh meat for dinner that day.


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