Smaller than many and older than most
The scruffy little tramp slinks away down the coast
Taking coal for the depot or tar for the road
and going wherever to find the next load
Until at its end when it's run its last lap
It is sent by its owner up river for scrap
Where the torches and hammers will silence the boiler
that beat like a heart pumping not blood but oil. For
it's profit that says what must go or remain
and this steamer must go now and that is a shame.
For she's more than just rivets and rusty steel plates
She's got personal history and character traits
that will live in the memories of captain and crew
like her name on their arms in a blue-black tattoo