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lyrics

Chapter 49: The Hyena

In the worst of times,
When every angle aligns
To create the last ordeal,

Take the joke,
A great, affectionate poke
From the cosmos to a great contender.

Oh, you row, row, row,
To speed your slow,
Sufficient death.

Now a sailor's will
And testament do appear
As a way to while to time,

But the prudent sot
Finds humor yet in his lot,
And by sot I mean the great enchanted
Masses of mankind who manage,

Oh!, to row, row, row,
And ho, ho, ho;
To laugh and jest.

(c) and (p) 2010 Patrick Shea

credits

from Call Me Ishmael; volume 7, track released December 2, 2011

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all rights reserved

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about

Patrick Shea Brooklyn, New York

Patrick is a nerd, a book lover, a math afficianado, an Ishmael, and an Ahab. He lives in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn with his wife and two daughters. He grew up in Portland, OR; and has also lived in Grinnell, IA (for college); and Austin, TX.

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