The Cerebus Returns
by Bjarni Egilsson
(September 1995)

Oh Captain, my Captain,      Our fearful trip is done; The ship has weathered every fight,      The booty's all been won. Through hell (was THAT the burny thing?)      And back without a trace, We left not even footprints      Though sometimes it was a race... The Saracens now number less      Than when we sailed that day, But those remaining look to you      For leadership and pay. What happens to the shares that would      Have gone to those who died? We really think 't should go to us      Who fought there, side by side. But yet your wisdom will prevail      O'er all that's gold and shiny, For those who would complain would find      A bruise upon their hiney. Yet this is one last task we leave      In your most cap'ble hands, Like we did when we found our ship      All wedged up on the sands... A boy I left; a man became,      Or so that woman told me. (Why did she charge so much      When I just wanted her to hold me?) I've learned a lot, and fought my way      Through battles fierce and hard, Not once complaining of my job      As shieldman to the bard. How fondly I recall the day      When you said we'd go sailing; Though little knew I how much time      I'd spend bent o'er the railing. "To sea!" you'd said, and all the crew      Packed fast, with nothing wanting, And all my dreams came true: I went      A' Great White Sausage hunting! And yet I must confess that sight      Of land has made me cheer, And want to thank Our Captain, but...      Old Ir'npaw's gone for beer.

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