"The Ship", "The Penny Wet", as well,
And even "Simpson's Grand Hotel".

The morning sky, the sun was greeting,
When Wallsend Council, left their meeting,
The Civic Heads were bowed with fears,
And Civic cheeks were wet with tears.

But, hope forever, springs eternal,
For there in that same mornings "Journal",
Was news that gladdened every eye,
And, in the next verse, I will tell you why.

The news on pages one, and two,
Came like a bolt, out of the blue.
The ship built by, the great combine,
Was two feet wider, than the Tyne.

The Council all began to sing,
The Mayor danced, a Highland Fling,
And passers-by turned round to stare,
As Civic 'duts' tossed in the air.

The Councils' cup, of joy was full,
But elsewhere hopes were very dull.
The heads of 'Swan and Hunter Group',
Were well and truly in the soup.
  The brains assembled in their lair,
Sir John himself was in the Chair,
"The problem, gentlemen", - I quote,
"Is how to get our ship afloat"

They sat all day, and made their plans,
And ended with, a show of hands.
Their scheme, though born, of desperation,
Resolved, a tricky situ-ation.

On Monday, June, the twenty - third,
The most amazing Launch occurred,
They turned the berth the other way,
And launched the ship at Whitley Bay

It thundered past the "Rising Sun",
This giant of, a million ton,
"High Farm Estate", and "Biggs's Main"
Will never be, the same again.

No Architect could ever cure,
The damage done, to Shiremoor,
And all agreed, it was a pity,
The Drag-Chains wrecked, the "Spanish City"

The backwash, from when it hit the sea,
Drowned fifty pigs at Peterlee,
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