The Ballad of Captain
Grey
From upon the quay one could say they see no ship at all,
The angry ocean boils and foams, a raving heaving squall,
But in that gnashing maelstrom there is one surviving boat,
And at its helm my hero Captain Grey keeps us afloat,
What little of his coarse black hair not plastered to his
head,
Stands in a rigid cock’s comb: an affront to doom and dread,
His trunk-like chest it ripples as he wrestles with the
wheel,
Those steadfast squinting onyx eyes glinting with gutsy zeal,
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