You say well -meant again,
lock -keeper
Or laid in even deeper than
the time before
Oriental oils and tea brought
down from Singapore
As we wait for my lot to cycle
I say my wife has just given me a son
A son, you cry,
is that all that you've done?
She wears bougainvillea blossoms,
you pluck them from her hair
and toss them in the tide.
Sweep her in your arms
and carry her inside
And her sighs catch on your shoulder
Her moonlit eyes grow bold and
wiser through her tears
And I say, how could you stand
to leave her for a year?
Come with me, say,
to where the Southern Cross
rides high upon your shoulder
Come with me, you cry,
each day you tend this lock
You're one day older,
while your blood grows colder
But each anchor chain's a fetter
With it you are tethered to the foam
But I wouldn't trade your life
for one hour of home
Sure, I'm stuck here on the seaway
While you compensate
for leeway through the
And you shoot the stars
to see the miles you've made
And you laugh at hearts you've riven
But which of these have given
us more love or life
You, your tropic maids or me,
my wife.
Come with me, you say,
to where the Southern Cross
rides high upon your shoulder.
Come with me, you cry.
Each day you tend this lock.
You're one day older
While your blood grows colder
But each anchor chain's a fetter
And with it you are
tethered to the phone
But I wouldn't trade your life
for one hour of home
You