Galley Slave Fright


On board this ship
We live in fear
Of our taskmistress’s whip
Whene’er she’s near.

We gaze in awe
At our taskmistress’s boots
And kiss them raw
Whene’er she stoops.

Whilst out at sea
We howl and plea
To be spared the whip;
For sweet feminine clemency.

Yet still the whip
Strikes from on high
With lightning cracks
Across our backs!

And so we roar
Upon our oar,
A bridge of sighs
‘Neath leaden skies.

For our mistress is power
With thunderous might.
We can but cower
In galley slave fright.

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