I am the Captain
of what you might ask.
Am I a has been
or do I serve a task?
Oh, I sail now and then,
drank rum from the cask.
I'm now beached on the hard,
dreaming of visits to ports,
from the sea I'm barred
and off even keel of sorts.
My helm locked and marred
as my body grows warts.
When next comes Spring,
heaven will rain my mana
and sea song I will sing,
while keeping beat with a banana.
The ships bell will again ring
at launch time for the Manana.
Cast the lines - raise the sails,
chart a course for any place.
Rig the ship for mighty gales,
take all storms right in my face.
Fear not what make good sea tales,
Captain again - gleams on my face.