Salt Fare, North Sea

The British Navy, guardian of the seabound British establishment, almost became its destroyer when sailors demanded rights in the mutinies at Spithead and the Nore in 1797. Sailors were always the archetypal enemy within; the word strike comes from militant sailors’ tendency to strike the sails when warring with the Admiralty.
Roll on, roll off
With these words I drown
Topmast secured
Hatches battened down
Sometimes I think
It must be different on land
But from the mast I can only see tyrants
Still in command
Fish & Chip supper
Battered, no bones
Hung, drawn and quoted
And drifting alone
One thousand lashes
For the Age of Reason
Salt for your wounds
When the cod's in season
We reach the horizon
And sail over the edge
Drunk on our memories
More sober than a judge
I'm wasting time
That I can't afford -
I know I'd die on the gallows
Before I'd die of being bored
Salt fare, North Sea