Nodding off in Anchor’s Edge
The ocean in her hair
A lazy maiden left the hedge
Her consciousness still there

She dove into the ocean
Without so much a jump
The village drunk’s commotion
Ignored for festive bump

“If anyone can help the lass
I’ll rouse a round on me
By time we’re there, she’s for the bass
Her eyes a memory”‘

So to the shores they left their chores
Not stopping for their shoes
For anyone would surely run
If for Old Marley’s booze

When clamored for the corkscrew
They rummaged at the docks
They roared “love, where are you,”
And kicked about the rocks

But shoals and shores hid well their whores
And less they knew her name
Embracing life’s assumed divorce
Returned untied from shame

Their eyes could none believe the lie
When all returned to bed
The lass they gave the sea to die
Was lesser than undead

She stole their cash, their shoes, their mash
And ‘fore the sun was gone
She risked to sell their stolen trash
And founded New Alban