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In the days of old |
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Journeys to the middle of sea |
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Brought fortunes from the products |
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Of monsters |
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Yet one such fateful journeys would prove |
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Trying to even the most hardened sea bearer |
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For the beasts of the sea would take their revenge |
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On a vessel of maritime lore |
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Somewhere in the deep south |
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Near the grounds of great white beasts |
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The ship approached to pillage them for their greed |
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When one struck back, the vessel took to the deep |
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Now abondoned, stranded on small open boats |
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Three doomed parties left on the open sea |
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What lye ahead was ninety days |
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To endure the harsh elements and insanity |
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Nothing but hard bread and stale water |
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A diet of ocean slavery |
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When the storm came to feed |
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The crew was left with nothing |
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Left starving and hungry |
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Winds of unbelievable nature |
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Waves upon waves, the beating |
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Watching the bailing till morning |
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The rain it never goes away |
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The nights never seem to end |
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Day by day the famine grows worse |
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Exposed to the full force of the meridian sun |
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Without shield, the burning influence pierces through skin |
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The thirst unbearable, fastly wasting away |
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Dying from the elements |
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One boat lost at sea |
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Survival would soon turn to depravity |
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And out they spoke |
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And out they spoke for lots of flesh and blood |
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And who should die |
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And who should die for a fellow's food |
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As one fell to weakness |
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The corpse ready to be disposed |
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In the sea |
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Lying there like a tasty meal of salty meat |
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In that, they should find relief from present sufferings |
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So preparations were made to preserve the meat |
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From spoilage |
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Separate the limbs - |
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Cut the flesh from bones |
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Open the chest - |
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Take out the heart |
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Now the cravings of nature |
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Could be eagerly devoured |
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A most deplorable and affecting picture |
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Of suffering and misery |
