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By Iain Muir |
I was out at the Rim of the Spaceways, And Man, I thought I was Dead! I was a burned-out hunk - my hyperdrive junk, And the lights on the ops panel were red. I’d swear she came outta nowhere, The answer to my dyin’ prayer. Nothing greater than a battered tramp freighter, But she’d a hull full of wond’rous air! So I made a dash for the airlock, To stare at th’old girl from afar. And as I stared out I could just make out That her name was the Wand'rin’ Star. They threw me a line from their airlock, And I shimmied along it right quick. The glee of my jig as I abandoned my rig Was enough to make any man sick. Her Captain she asked ‘Where ya headed?" "C’mon boy, we’ll give ye a jar!" "I somehow think ye have need of a drink!" Said the skipper o’ the Wand'rin’ Star. They took a-hold o’ my rig for salvage. I couldn’t have cared less by far! I was roaring drunk as I lay in a bunk In the hold of the Wand'rin’ Star. So they dropped me off on Bethdish, And I headed straight for the bar. With the last of my wealth to drink to the health O’ the crew of the Wand'rin’ Star. The ‘Mare’ was as packed as is usual With wand’rers from near and afar. But a silence fell they musta heard in Hell When I toasted the Wand'rin’ Star. Old Max he just looked at me funny, But "Boy!" said a man with a scar, "I dunno where you’ve been, but you can’t have seen The tramp-freighter Wand'rin’ Star." "Cause I served on the Star her last voyage, I bunked with her First Mate, Jafar. And when her engine o’erloaded, the old girl exploded! I’m the last of the Wand'rin’ Star!" Then I described to him his old shipmates, That I’d just seen alive on the Star. And with tankards a-clink we’d a thundering drink To the ghost-freighter Wand'rin Star! |
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