Sting: When the Last Ship Sails Page #2

owners of the shipyard

I'm not saying it won't be hard

if the boss hands us me cards

And they try to close us

down like other shipyards

And if industrial action

only helps the competition

As I've heard the bosses bleating

from their usual position

And I stand accused of anarchy,

disruption and sedition

Well, ye'll never knock us down,

you reactionary clowns

When it's time for

occupation of the shipyard

My name is Peggy White

And I've nursed ye

through your injuries

- And your cuts and wounds I've bound.

- Come on, Peg!

Busted arms and busted heads,

broken backs and broken legs

I'd sooner put ye in a splint than

have them put ye in the ground

And the fumes from all the welding

where the poison air is hung

And the toxic radiation that's

been blackening your tongue

I could give yous all an aspirin

while you're coughing up your lungs

But it's all you'll ever

get here in this shipyard.

- Adrian Sanderson! - Just putting

me hat on. Be patient, will you?

You're on, kid!

Ah, me name is Adrian Sanderson,

and the river is me trade

But it's intellectual discourse

I'm known better for

I may forego English grammar

when I'm injured by the hammer

But I've a preference for

the deference of a metaphor

I've read The Odyssey by Homer,

and the Iliad as well

- I've read Tacitus and Pliny

- Aye, aye, and the Scarlet Pimpernel

I've spent a night shift down with

Dante on his journey into Hell

And that's what we'll all be facing,

if this yard's put up to sell

For the only life we've

known is in the shipyard...

- Shall I go on?

- Go on.

Now about those Trojan wars and

the troubles that they caused,

- when they sailed off on that

summer's afternoon? - Yes.

Because the ship they had was crap,

and they lost their bloody map

When they tried to get

themselves back to the tomb

There's a lesson in these tales

although they happened ages past

Just like Spartacus,

that film by Stanley Kubricks

First it's tragedy then farce,

then they'll kick you up the arse

When you tempt the gods

with arrogance and hubris

Well, it's obvious I'm gifted

with the rhyming and the meter

- And hereabouts I'm thought

of highly as a bard! - As a bard.

And if I wasn't shooting rivets,

I'd be famous in me time

All those literary circles,

I could dazzle with me rhyme

I've never lacked ambition,

you can say it was a crime

For rivets may be riveting,

but sonnets are sublime

And the only life we've known

is in the shipyard... Come on, lads!

Steel in the stockyard,

iron in the soul

We'll conjure up a ship

where there used to be a hole

But we don't know what

we'll do if this yard gets sold

For the only life we've

known is in the shipyard...

Oh, here he comes, Davy Harrison,

the town drunk!

- Are you all right, Davy?

- Davy!

Oh, me name is Davy Harrison,

I like a drink or two

You could ask me when it started,

and I haven't got a clue

I'm ever never miserable,

I'm never ever blue

And I'll still be up tomorrow

for the shipyard

I drink meself into a stupor,

and I wake up with two heeds

And then the missus starts complainin',

about all me drunken deeds

Like when I got the

train to Sunderland...

- ... but found meself in Leeds

- Leeds!

And I had to get up

early for the shipyards

You know I once

gave up the drinking

It was 1963

But it seems as if sobriety

was not the thing for me

It was the worst...

three hours,

I ever hope to see

Steel in the stockyard,

iron in the soul

We'll conjure up a ship where

there used to be a hole

And the ship sets sail,

and the tale gets told

And the only life we've

known is in the shipyard

Steel in the stockyard,

iron in the soul

We'll get the bastard finished

and we'll end up on the dole

And we don't know what

we'll do if the yard gets sold

The only life we've

ever known is in the

Shipyaaaaard.

Thank you!

So... so without giving too

much of the play away,

because I want you to come

out and see it eventually, um...

It does have a love story, and our

leading man is a man called Gideon.

He's been away from

this town for 14 years.

He went away to sea.

He left under a bit of a cloud.

He doesn't like the place,

but he's back because his Dad's died,

and he needs to sort some

things out, but there's also,

some other ghosts he needs to lay,

some unfinished business.

This is Gideon's song.

Oh, I know I've come

home for a reason

But that reason

escapes me now

The engine's ceased and

the wind from the east

Cleared the fog

off the starboard bow

Well, here's the mouth

of the river that spawned me

I feel like a stranger here

How long has it been, well,

I haven't been seen...

in these parts for 14 years

Yes, these are the streets

where I once played

Where some debt of

the soul was left unpaid

And the place the old

man's bones are laid

And coming home,

coming home's not easy

I wonder if she still

lives round here

That girl I've been

missing these 14 years

She's probably married,

with kids of her own...

...by now

By now.

This town,

this stain on the sunrise

Disguised in the

mist this morning

It's 8am

A seagull shouts

a sailor's warning

This sky,

this bend in the river

Slows down

and delivers me

The tide rolls back

And all my memories

fade to black

And yet, and yet,

I'm back

This town has a

strange magnetic pull

Like a homing

signal in your skull

And you sail by the

stars of the hemisphere

Wondering how in the

hell did you end up here?

It's like an underground river,

or a hidden stream

That flows through your

head and haunts your dreams

And you stuffed those

dreams in this canvas sack

And there's nothing round

here that the wide world lacks

And yet, and yet,

you're back

Some nights I'd lie on

the deck and I'd stare

At the turning

of the stars

Those constellations

hanging up there

From the cables

and the rigging

I'd wonder if she

saw the same

Or managed to

recall my name

Why would she

ever think of me?

Some boy she loved

who fled to sea?

And why waste time debating,

whether she'd be waiting,

for the likes of me?

So you drift into port

with the scum of the seas

To the dance halls and the

brothels where you took your ease

And the ship's left the dock

but you're half past caring

You haven't got a clue

whose bed you're sharing

And your head's like a

hammer on a bulkhead door

And it feels like somebody

might have broken your jaw

And there's bloodstains

and glass all over the floor

And you swear to God

you'll drink no more

And yet, and yet

In truth,

it's too late to find her

Too late to remind her

at some garden gate

Where a servant

tells me I should wait

And perhaps a door's

slammed in my face

My head must

be in outer space

And yet, and yet

Before the sun has set

Before the sea

There may be something

else that's waiting for...

the likes of me

This town,

this stain on the sunrise.

When August

winds are turning

The fishing boats set

out upon the sea

Rate this script:3.0 / 1 vote