#seashanty
It's been two months, no rations left
This ship is going nowhere.
To think I hoped I'd leave my home
To find a new life somewhere
The only thing I'm hoping now
Is that I won't get eaten.
By those who spoke to me like friends;
By whom my fate was written.
I was the fool who stepped his foot
On a strangers strange ship
And yet the sea had warned me
From the moment i stepped in.
Before i boarded the ship
My name was Mack O'Neill
Now every day i worry that
I'm gonna be their meal.
The waves were high the sky was gray
The ship was looking rusty
The sails were dark and slightly rugged
the crew was pale and musty
"Bellow the deck It's packed with rats
But the food is plenty
the journey's short, we'll reach the port
Before the barrel's empty"
That's what the captain told me
When i expressed my doubt
a gullible young lad i was
And now there's no way out
It's been three months no rations left
The rats have disappeared
The mates are falling one by one
We're reaching what i feared
I was the fool who stepped his foot
On a strangers strange ship
And yet the sea had warned me
From the moment i stepped in.
I know one of those days they'll eat me
But i don't know when
and every night i pray that i
will taste bitter by then.
May 16
May 16, 2026 at 11:03 AM UTC
The sound of sea shanty’s filling the air.
Folk songs about love, the moon, and the stars.
Sung by many a sailor, free from all care.
Whilst drinking *** whisky, and moonshine from jars.
Love songs telling tales of sailors returning home from sea.
As they make their way home from afar.
Longing to hold their sweethearts, waiting on the quay.
Plotting their journey by GPS and the sight of the Daystar.
Washing decks and hoisting sails.
The sailors are joined on their journey by dolphins and whales.
As they sail closer to home.
They let their minds freely roam.
They dream of their sweetheart dressed in a shirt and tight-fitting jeans.
Their darling waiting with a smile, lighting her face like a beacon on the shore.
Standing, watching for their arrival at the quay.
Raising their spirits as high as the seagulls soar.
There will be market stalls selling the catch of the day.
Table decorations sewn and crocheted.
Children chase each other around the town square.
Their laughter and squeals of delight filled the air.
The sailors standing on deck eagerly wait to spot their one.
Then they know their work will be done.
A slice of home awaits.
As they dream of sitting by the fireplace.
With their girl sitting on their knees, her arms around his neck.
Children sit at their feet, searching for gifts in dad’s suitcase.
For the next ten days, there will be no thoughts of the main deck.
Tonight there will be no thoughts of high tides and fishing quotas.
Instead, loving his girl and being a dad is all that matters.
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 4:44 AM UTC