Look out all you crabs and lobsters,
A long thin pine log’s going by:
Moving onwards down the river
Without floats to keep it high.
Never feeling any sadness:
Never breaking, I won’t bend,
Sometimes turning, sometimes rocking,
Touching banks with one blunt end.
Chorus: Doesn’t need a swimming costume,
Doesn’t need some orange trunks,
Drifting forward almost silent,
No sails to take it, back or front.
I’ve an open-minded view upon
The world as at a view
Of a bucket full of holes
That’s sinking in the river blue.
Logs and truncheons when they’ve fallen
In the water on their backs,
Still they travel floating onwards
Through the night when it’s so black.
Swimming like a swift torpedo
Life in nature’s not for me,
All the weevils have however
Found a better place to be.
Carry me away you current
Round the mound and past the bend,
Straight to where I’m meant for whether
Left or right or straight ahead.