The Holy Grailer

Will mine be the lot of the drunken sailor
Shipwrecked ashore like a bankrupt tailor
A bare-assed failure—a Holy Grailer
Hung by the neck on the apple tree
A first class loser for all to see
Holy Jasus, what will I do?

In the distance I hear the sea bird’s cry
Must prepare myself for the last goodbye
Wear my crown of thorns, heave a long sigh
Lay me down with the tattered bards
Tuck me away in the elephant’s graveyard
Brothers grieve, oh what will I do?

I will disappear to a faraway land.
Patagonia, Zimbabwe, the Río Grande.
Start a new life, follow other plans.
So I'm off and away, not a moment too soon.
Will float far off on a big balloon
and stay 'til the cow jumps over the moon.
That's what I, that's what I'll do.

Leonard Irving
San Francisco, California