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Lock Keeper
par
Eric Bogle
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You say "well met again, Lock-keeper" We're late and even deeper than the time before Oriental oils and tea brought down from Singapore As we wait for my lock to cycle, I see my wife has given me a son "A son!?" you cried, "is that all that you've done?" She wears Bougainvillaea blossom You pluck 'em from her hair and toss them in the tide Sweep her in your arms and carry her inside Her size catch on your shoulder Her moonlit eyes grow bold and wiser through hеr tears And I say to you: "how could you leave hеr for the year?" "So, come with me!" you cried "To where the southern cross rides high upon your shoulder." "Come with me!" you cried "Each day you tend this lot, you're one day older" While your blood grows colder But that anchor chains of fetter And with it you are tethered to the foam And I would not trade your life for one hour of home Sure, I'm stuck here on the sea-way While you compensate for leeway through the trades And you shoot the stars to see the miles you've made And you laugh at the heart shiv riven But which of these has given us more love or life You; your tropic mate's or me; my wife? "So, come with me!" you cried "To where the southern cross rides high upon your shoulder." "Come with me!" you cried "Each day you tend this lot, you're one day older" While your blood grows colder But that anchor chains of fetter And with it you are tethered to the foam And I would not trade your life for one hour of home
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