by Paul Gerard Smith performed by Pat O'Malley You've 'eard that lovely poem of the Ancient Mariner, The yarn 'e told the wedding guest created quite a stir; But I've a yarn to spin about a sojer of renown That makes the Ancient Mariner go 'way back and sit down. The day the Mayflower sailed away a crowd was at the pier To kiss their relatives goodbye and wish them all good cheer. 'Twas a lovely celebration with a big brass band and all , And a squad of British sojers... one of them was Samuel Small. 'E'd come to see 'is coosin off; 'e'd brought some fruit and stuff And a little box of Mothersills in case the trip was rough; 'E went to 'is coosin's cabin and they 'ad a bit of ale And the coosin promised Sam that 'e would write 'im without fail. They 'ad another drop of ale, and ale made Sam Small drowsy, So 'e sat down and said, "Bah goom, I'm feeling pretty bad." Then, "All ashore that's going ashore," they 'eard the purser call, And all the visitors got off, except our friend Sam Small. When, they arrived at Plymouth Rock, a Pilgrim called the roll, And seeing Sam Small's name not there, 'e said, "Lord bless my soul! Are you the Mayflower's mascot, or perhaps the Captain's pet?" Sam said, "I am a sojer, and my stomach is upset." The Pilgrim father said, "Too bad your stomach's out of whack, You came here as a stowaway; we've got to send you back." Sam Small stood thunderstruck, 'is face turned greener than a pea. "I don't mind going back," 'e said, "but must I go by sea?" The Pilgrim father said, "But there's no other way to go, Airships won't be invented for three 'undred years or so, There isn't any tunnel, and you cannot go by rail, So, back you go by sea, my lad... get on, you're setting sail." So Sam set sail; as soon as they were out of sight of land The one thing Sam could keep upon 'is stomach was 'is 'and. They pitched and tossed, and Sam thought things 'e never learned at school, And after seven weeks or so, they docked at Liverpool. Then Sam walked down the gangplank, light of heart at reaching shore And 'e 'oped 'e'd never 'ave to see the ocean any more. A gentleman in blue stepped up. "Are you Sam Small?" 'e said. "Wot's left of me is Sam," said Sam, "but most of me is dead." "Let's 'ave your passport," said the man. Said Sam, "Let's 'ave my wot? A passport is one of the million things I 'aven't got." Then 'e started in explaining things, 'e talked an hour or so, But the man just said, "No passport? Very well, then-out you go!" They 'ustled Sam aboard a ship, 'e left the shore be'ind, 'Is mind was on 'is stomach and 'is stomach on 'is mind. They tossed and pitched and pitched and tossed and tossed and pitched and tossed. To some it was a pleasure trip, to Sam a 'olocaust. They reached the other side and as Sam wobbled down the plank, A man stepped up and said, "Are you a Briton or a Yank?" Sam said, "I am a Briton, I'm a sojer of John Bull." The man just closed 'is book and said, "Go back, your quota's full." So back aboard the ship went Sam, and once again set sail Sam spent the entire voyage leaning empty on the rail 'E was starving so 'e thought 'e'd try a little pot of tea, 'E took one sip and tossed the rest directly in the sea. They reached the other side; some'ow Sam weathered out the storm And standing on the pier 'e saw two men in uniform. "We are looking," they informed 'im, "for a sojer named Sam Small, 'E went Absent Without Leave, the Sergeant's grim about it all. "Desertion from the Army is a crime, and so you see When Sam comes 'ome the Sergeant's going to 'ang 'im to a tree." Sam never said a word at all, 'e went into reverse A life upon the sea was bad, but 'anging could be worse. So right back to America, and down the plank and then Right back aboard the ship 'e went... its quota full again; And when 'e got to England 'e could not land there because In 'is absence they 'ad passed some funny Immigration laws. And so Sam put to sea again, 'e's still out there somewhere And 'e suffers from 'omesickness, slightly mixed with mal de mer, And until some laws are passed that open up a port of call, The Ancient Mariner won't 'ave a thing on Private Samuel Small.
The end