You say, andquot;well-met again, lock-keeper!
weand're laden even deeper that the time before,
oriental oils and tea brought down from singapore.andquot;
as we wait for my lock to cycle
i say, andquot;my wife has given me a son.andquot;
andquot;a son!andquot; you cry, andquot;is that all that youand've done?andquot;
She wears bougainvilla blossoms.
you pluck and'em from her hair and toss and'em in the tide,
sweep her in your arms and carry her inside.
her sighs catch on your shoulder;
her moonlit eyes grow bold and wiser through her tears
and i say, andquot;how could you stand to leave her for a year?andquot;
andquot;then come with meandquot; you say, andquot;to where the southern cross
rides high upon your shoulder.andquot;
andquot;come with me!andquot; you cry,
andquot;each day you tend this lock, youand're one day older,
while your blood runs colder.andquot;
but that anchor chainand's a fetter
and with it you are tethered to the foam,
and i wouldnand't trade your life for one hour of home.
Sure iand'm stuck here on the seaway
while you compensate for leeway through the trades;
and you shoot the stars to see the miles youand've made.
and you laugh at hearts youand've riven,
but which of these has given us more love of life,
you, your tropic maids, or me, my wife.
andquot;then come with meandquot; you say, andquot;to where the southern cross
rides high upon your shoulder.andquot;
andquot;ah come with me!andquot; you cry,
andquot;each day you tend this lock, youand're one day older,
while your blood runs colder.andquot;
but that anchor chainand's a fetter
and with it you are tethered to the foam,
and i wouldnand't trade your life for one hour of home.
ah your anchor chainand's a fetter
and with it you are tethered to the foam,
and i wouldnand't trade your whole life for just one hour of home.
