The Wreck of the Maritime Union

Oh the wreck of the Maritime Union,
lies rusting in the Sea of Confusion
When the Irving Light failed, onward she sailed
Through the wind, the rain and the gale.

The Good Ship Captain and crew
Drank heavily of the concocted brew
Of spiked promise of wealth, poured with great stealth
But alas it was naught but for the few

Oh the end was foreseen far and wide
For the foam was thick at her side
With a hideous roar, she scraped the rock shore
No more to sail the salt tide

With nary fish nor steel nor wood
Nor plans for the future as they should
Chokers and Nosers, like so many Hosers
Marooned in a dream world of “If”, “Would” and “Could”.

With pipe dreams, of oil, shale and gold
The lies of hucksters were sold
But hot air and gas, and the occasional glass
Could not right the proud ship of old

So the carcass lies here in decay
with the surf pounding heavy each day
with barnacles clinging, and alarm bells still ringing
the rats, and the vultures hold sway

The world sails on but the Union lies calm
No new fangled rigging has she
In the gathering gloom, she faces her doom
With biscuits and a nice cup of tea.