Narrowboatman Again

by John Clachan



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One week off, I'm afloat again
With me mac and brolly and the pouring rain
And a large hot toddy in my trembling hands
It's here I'll make my stand

I'm done with work and the daily grind
My friends can't see, well they must be blind
As I pass through a lock, see the sun come through
Alone, I'm the only crew


And the kingfisher sits as the boats go by
And the sun's going down in the evening sky
I'm never going back to the hue and cry
I'm a narrowboatman again

I'll start up at dawn and I laugh and sing
Then I moor for lunch at a wayside inn
In the afternoon it's a gentle crawl
Well met hail fellows all


By the end of the week I'm a connoisseur
And my mind's in tune with the engine's purr
And it's three more locks to the winding hole
I've almost reached my goal

And now the yard comes into view
I steer her in, my aim is true
A last goodbye to my old friend
My journey's at an end

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