Dedicated to my mother in law Iris Fearn,
we had fantastic times.

Was it a body, or was it not?
That lumpy thing stuck in the lock,
I moved it once then it fell right back
The body had us in its trap,
The doors are open and stuck fast
The body beneath had made its grasp.

A pole was used to make us free
To move away the stale debris,
Skipper wants to moor for the night
First lady thought that would be right,
Just one more go to move it a bit,
It moved and then I felt sick.

Now all this happened
On a vessel called Martha,
I bet it was named
By some drunk father,
The body gone the doors can close
Thank goodness were not called... Mary Rose.