I had this dream where I relished the fray

And the screaming filled my head all day

It was as though I’d been spit here

Settled in, into the pocket

Of a lighthouse on some rocky socket

Off the coast of France, dear

One afternoon four thousand men died in the water here

And five hundred more were thrashing madly

As parasites might in your blood

Now I was in a lifeboat designed for ten and ten only

Anything that systematic would get you hated

It’s not a deal nor a test nor a love of something fated

The selection was quick, the crew was picked in order

And those left in the water

Got kicked off our pant leg

And we headed for home

Then the dream ends when the phone rings

“You doing all right?”

He said, “It’s out there most days and nights

But only a fool would complain”

Anyway, Susan, if you like

Our conversation is as faint a sound in my memory

As those fingernails scratching on my hull

Nautical Disaster by The Tragically Hip