Boom boom, Crash crashRatatatatHe knew it by heart and so did I
He said as we rode down the road
Without letting go of the boat he held
That hopped and croaked, like a toadWe didn't progress all that fast
For his back was glued to a wall
But he spoke of the life of one Joe Breem
Who met his death in the fall...One Joe Breem or Breen, the son of a lighthouse keeper, a strong, muscular lad of 15, who swam for miles in the night, a knife between his teeth, after a shark, out of sheer heroismWe stopped and I held the goat by the horn
He opened his mouth as to speak
But all that I heard was a kind of rattle
He must have been incredibly weak.
His silence seemed most natural to me
As we stood and then admired the view
Of the first bats that flew out of the night
Though there returned but a few.
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