The Sixty Foot Narrowboatby Ian H Bruce (2008)I stand on the stern of a sixty foot narrowboatFifty-five feet from the solid fuel stoveCold and alone, drenched to the boneOh where is my mate? Oh where is my love?Me mate's in the cabin of the sixty foot narrowboatForty five feet from the cold and the wetShe's cosy and warm, sheltering from stormsI asked for a hot brew, she'd best not forgetThe kettle's been on in the sixty foot narrowboatThe tea long-since brewed has now all been drunkMe mate's in a comfy chair, eating fresh cream éclairsMy hopes of a hot drink seem scuppered and sunkThere are problems galore on a sixty foot narrowboatCommunication being one for a startAn intercom was installed, so me mate could be calledBut dead dry-cell batteries now keep us apartI've not been forgotten on the sixty foot narrowboatMe mate ventures out with refreshments at lastAnd though I'd prefer a tea, she brings a cold coffeeWith an iced currant rock bun whose sell-by's long pastThough luxuries abound on this sixty-foot narrowboatFew are apparent as I stand and steerMiserable, feeling blue, desperately needing looCross-legged I pray that my mate will appearTemperature's rise in the sixty-foot narrowboatResentment and anger, simmer and growWhen the silence is broken, harsh words are spokenAnd me mate returns tearful to the cabin belowAnd what is the name of this sixty-foot narrowboatWhat name was it given by my mate and me?Was it Odin or Thor or some god of war?No, my mate and me live on board 'Harmony'. 'Call this a Holiday?' puts forward one view of narrowboating and I felt obliged to write another song to provide balance. My wife would like me to point out that this song is entirely fictitious and is in no way based on anything that happens on our 48 foot narrowboat. Recorded on :
[G]I stand on the [D]stern of a [Em]sixty foot [Bm]narrow-boat[Am]Fifty-five [G]feet from the [D]solid fuel [G]stoveCold and [D]alone, [Em]drenched to the [Bm]boneOh [Am]where is my [C]mate? Oh [D]where is my [G]love?