A ship’s propeller
gutted the dolphin’s white flank.
Not a soul ever
wants to be shot at point blank.

All guns are silent
with no munitions to spend.
Need to race faster
the road’s sharp bend!

Sails! Sails were ripped in a scurry!
Sorry, sorry, sorry...

Reckoning soldiers
sometimes would not meet their foe.
Don’t say "Misfortune",
if you have hit your toe.

Entrance door hinges:
ready to creak, ready to sing:
"What is your mission?
You better leave!"

Our sails! Sails were ripped in a scurry!
Sorry, sorry, sorry...

Long live performers -
those who can sing in sleep.
All four world corners
can well be sunken deep.

All these land masses
can well decay to grit.
All that will happen -
won’t suit my need!

Our sails! Sails were ripped in a scurry!
Sorry, sorry, sorry...