Coal island bound
On the ship
On the rocking waves
I'm on my way
To the black coal face
I will work in the gutters
The shores of respite
Will heal my soul
And my ship will be scuppered
On that island of coal
I've hurt and I've suffered
For the whys and the Hows
The whos and the whats
But if I had to tell
What it was I learned
I can't say a lot
Apart from how and when
To be a fool to myself
When someone rings a bell
I jump
When they start to yell
I slump
Like a puppet on string
Held by you
The puppet island sailors
Are calling now
Writing letters
To the roving butterflies
That are blown across oceans
Whose pupae have squirmed
Chrysalises shake
In the mid Atlantic wake
Of the Ships
That go sailing by
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