TestoA Great Northern River

banded with yellow and silver bringing in cargos of oil and wood taking home girders of steel and pick iron oh, coloured faces, flaxom old places high from the sternposts are flying down on the docks, down on the wharves lofty grain standing stevedores working and rivermen shouting crews making ready for London ropes black and tarry chains rusty and red lay among timber and bollards and packing seagulls wheel over wild river cats down on the jetties are watching nights by the docks, pack'd smoky pubs plenty of shouting and swearing heavy brown ale, thick muddy stout, and nobody's caring a lass starts to warble a popular song they're throwing her pennies and pieces of silver closing time called, silence then falls on a great northern river