By the windy shores o Canada bay I broke my fast for Lucia’s day,
A beguiling figure she blew my way & rattled me rovin’ heart,
The snipers crack, the metronome of pricy heels on polished stone,
That I were soon to call my own by way o’ the ancient art.
I were cozened by a whiff-o-the-whim that scours the Costa harryin’,
The likes o’ men who’ve lost the lamp, the rudderless and bewildered,
The sands below are littered wi’ bones o’ those who’ve taken a belly o’ stones,
And turned their backs on wives & homes to follow the black Matilda.
Ho-ro m’lovelies cross yer hearts & hope to die,
If e’er ye’re drawn beneath a murky fathom of her eye,
Ho-ro my lovelies kiss yer arse a fond goodbye,
Ye’ll never again be able to lift yer head so bloody high.
wives
where
turned
tortuga
theres
there
taken
swung
souls
shores
shall
rattled
pursed
polished
young
never
three
those
their
murky
windy
unfamiliar
metronome
matilda
lived
littered
stones
pricy
likes
lucia
bloody
follow
goodbye
sailed
cocoon
blood
scours
broke
bones
snipers
black
heels
bastard
before
waltz
poetry
jericho
point
beneath
beguiling
poets
costa
canada
caution
whiff
ancient
sages
bewildered
brains
proud
heart
drowned
backs
belly
drips
pauper
killed
begotten
battered
tried
hundred
coulda
pages
enough
stone
rudderless
garland
sands
homes
crack
cross
below
fathom
disenchanted
drawn
hearts
figure
again
howlin
forever
friggin
hells
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