Post by Administrator on Oct 4, 2020 13:20:58 GMT
THE PANAMA CANAL MULES
There was many a lad on a tanker, a liner or tramp of the sea,
That saved up bread for the `mules`, and one of those lads was me,
Informed by the crew it was routine, and nice to be such a pal,
By hoarding grub for old Dobbin, working the long canal.
For weeks while crossing the ocean, earning a Deck boy’s pay
I stored all scraps and loaves there, plenty every day,
Later on, arriving, you could `knock me down with a feather`,
For it weren’t the type of mule, with legs and reins of leather.
These beasts had ruddy big engines - a locomotive wide,
The game was up I knew it - I’d been taken for a ride,
Quick as a flash, in a hurry, I dumped my donkey stores,
Not acting like a lubber or a stranger to these shores.
I pretended I wasn’t so stupid but wise to their childish game,
Patting myself on the back, for avoiding terrible shame,
But Galley boys and Peggy’s that fell for the seamen’s ruse,
Will never forget those mules - and bread they didn’t use.
Capt. J.EARL M.N.M.
There was many a lad on a tanker, a liner or tramp of the sea,
That saved up bread for the `mules`, and one of those lads was me,
Informed by the crew it was routine, and nice to be such a pal,
By hoarding grub for old Dobbin, working the long canal.
For weeks while crossing the ocean, earning a Deck boy’s pay
I stored all scraps and loaves there, plenty every day,
Later on, arriving, you could `knock me down with a feather`,
For it weren’t the type of mule, with legs and reins of leather.
These beasts had ruddy big engines - a locomotive wide,
The game was up I knew it - I’d been taken for a ride,
Quick as a flash, in a hurry, I dumped my donkey stores,
Not acting like a lubber or a stranger to these shores.
I pretended I wasn’t so stupid but wise to their childish game,
Patting myself on the back, for avoiding terrible shame,
But Galley boys and Peggy’s that fell for the seamen’s ruse,
Will never forget those mules - and bread they didn’t use.
Capt. J.EARL M.N.M.