We sailed away on a winter's day
With fate as malleable as clay
But ships are fallible, I say
And the nautical, like all things, fades
And I can recall our caravel:
A little wicker beetle shell
With four fine mastes and eightteen sails
Its bearings on Cair Paravel
O my love
O it was a funny little thing
To be the ones to've seen
The sight of bridges and balloons
Makes calm canaries irritable;
They caw and claw all afternoon:
"Catenaries and dirigibles
Brace and buoy the living-room—
A loom of metal, warp—woof—wimble"
And a thimbles worth of milky moon
Can touch hearts larger than a thimble
O my love
O it was a funny little thing
To be the ones to've seen