The gray hulk of her metal sides
Lying low in the deep ocean tides
Rain pelting her worn-out deck

Looking like a wrinkled face old, forlorn
So many years, a long wake of miles since born
She sits in moth balls not broken just bent

Once she bared more than one fighting fang
As two, four, six and eight bells she rang
Her once mighty prowess, her health turned to poor

In her heyday her native sons sang
Songs of glory, taking the fight to any evil gang
"Give 'em hell boys give 'em death and more"

No one aboard would frighten
When the enemy scaled this titan
He who took battle with her, for life and limb would soon plead

And her shipmates all pain would endure
Their love for their country was spiritually pure
She cut through the waves like a sea-going beast

To each victory they drank aged honey called mead
One blew a wind instrument cut from a reed
For good luck to the salt water fish they fed seed

Looking like a serpent with no neck and no nape
In contrast to now she was in fabulous shape
Eager to keep international law

She had no qualms when enemy blood she needed to draw
Aye, she struck quicker than any cat's paw
Quicker than a blinking eye she was gone before any one saw

Sometimes it seemed she was flesh and blood with a brain
Eluding those who would sink her, their chase in vain
She laughed knowing upon her they never would feast

Once her ironsides read: dearly beloved don't tread
Upon me else you'll be dead
Stabbed through the breast

Sinking low and heavy she's covered by a misty cloud
Wrapping tight about her, she wishes it were a shroud
She envies her shipmates -a peaceful rest