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The iceberg she stood there right on the sea,
She moved ever so gently as she towered over me;
But I knew I had gone too close to her side,
For when she tumbled over I thought I would die!
Like a cube in a glass of some Newfoundland rum,
She just spun around for no reason but one:
And that reason is icebergs have a mind of their own,
When they leave their Arctic mother and drift all alone.
So she turned over and cracked - just missing my dory,
And her blue-greens 'n' whites shone out in their glory;
And she hissed at me something that sounded like this:
"I'll spare you this once but next time I won't miss!"
Then her frothy old wave hit me broadside and lifted me up,
Any other kind of boat would have rolled over sure like a seal pup;
But my dory stayed floating on a crest of a wave,
And saved me for sure from a watery grave.... from a watery grave.
So, never go close to this queen of a berg,
Sure, 'tis wise to remember the words that I heard:
"I'll spare you your life.... next time I won't miss."
So, appreciate her colours but take heed of her list.
"Admire all my colours, but beware of my hiss."
So, give praise to her beauty but turn 'way from her kiss!
See more songs by The Sharecroppers.
Note: A true account of Mike's near-death experience with an iceberg.
