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There is a ferry on the water

 

here nearby where she crosses

over the ever changing tide,

carrying all who travel

safely side to side.

 

An old Knight’s castle stands solidly on rock,

there she still looks out from Ballyhack,

watched in turn from Passage East by wide

eyed goats perched on cliffs high above the

waves where white winged seabirds glide.

 

Keep to the western shore, to find the deep water

keep to the western shore, the old sea shanty sang.

 

Sailing in to port with the rising tide

upstream first, then later down, fine ships ride

back and forth to sea.  Distant places call them,

Antwerp, Rotterdam, Hamburg, Honduras,

but day by day from rising dawn to dark of night

our faithful ferry churns her way across,

always and ever back and forth,

back and forth ever and always

always and ever.

 

The wild goats roam and ramble, the sea birds

skate across skies where fresh winds blow.

Day by day the great ships come and go,

no ferry journey is ever the same, is ever dull.

 

The waters depth beneath forever changes,

passing dolphins leap in greeting cheerful.