She’s Going Down


Stuck steadfast in the Doldrums,
drifted into a shambles.
Dead calm yet in dire straits,
then I cauterise me mates.

She’s a broad-beamed Jolly Roger her stern, watertight to peck.
Wanna be her powder monkey (boys), a loose cannon on her deck.

So I’ll hold my course, mates, hard and fast.
Now she’s nailed her colours to the mast.
Get a last shot off,
across her prow.
Slid on her beam ends.

She’s going down.
[She’s going down, she’s going down, she’s going down.]
She’s going down.
[She’s going down, she’s going down,]
She’s going down.

Any harbour in a storm.
And with a girl in every port.
The cut o’er jib’s so graceful.
Ship-shape and very Bristol.

PRE-CHORUS

CHORUS

Ev’ry man jack off we go.
Lick o’ the cat and a hard heave-ho.
All y’ seamen everywhere:
Y’maiden passage fine and fare.

PRE-CHORUS

CHORUS
[She’s going down, she’s going down,] Beams in the air!

©29.9.2011 Andrew Robert Chapman


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