A Sea Shanty

Dear sweet smelling WoS enthusiasts, all three of you.

Usually at this time of year I change my name to ‘Lady Freakathon the third’, join in marriage a Bontempi organ and Stefan Dennis and alter my internet dating profile to read the words ‘I like killing people with my bare hands’. I also like to pen a sea shanty from time to time. This particular shanty I penned on Crosby beach after being inspired by Anthony Gormley’s ‘Another Place’. Also, someone had written their name ‘Phil’ in the sand. I tell thee, I bet this ‘Phil’ character was rather pleased with himself eh? Writing his name in the sand n’ that. What a genius. In honour of this genius, I wandered about the beach shouting “PHIL!” at the top of my voice to see if anyone would turn around. It was also part-homage to the great ‘Phil’ himself that I just felt the pleasure of shouting his name, his name ringing in my head, his name filling my lungs, my every breath as I bellowed it out into the steel grey, heartless sea. Unforgiving, crashing against the torn, black, ragged rocks, bleeding, exhausted onto the shore…


 Er, yes, so this sea shanty eh?

A hundred Saturday Iron Men

There was a hundred iron men who looked out to the sea

 Each one privately wondering what was on telly

 One hoped it was strictly Come Dancing, one hoped for Top Gear

 but Top Gear isn’t on on a Saturday, it’s usually on a Sunday

 Heave Ho!

 Repeat until nauseous….

I’m sure you enjoyed that enormously. You may like to sing it to your mates at the abbatoir where you work.

 Yours, in all matters musical