Somewhere Safe to Sea
Jack was a schemer, a doer and dreamer,
Purveyor of stories from first to last breath.
Jack was a thinker, a sailor, a drinker,
Raging for life, fascinated by death.
And Pete was a pirate caught out of his time,
The Cutty Sark King, with a wit black as coal,
Pete tortured the tunes but he relished the rhymes,
Like Jack, he heard Kipling speak straight to his soul.
From too much love of living, from hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving whatever gods may be,
That no life lives for ever, that dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river; winds somewhere safe to sea.
But men who are driven to write or to sing,
Must have recognition as they must have life,
For all that ephemeral glory can bring,
They're wed to celebrity more than a wife.
While they never met, they were brothers in spirit,
To argue and roister would bring them delight,
Though neither believed in any hereafter,
Are Pete and Jack singing together tonight?