R. Gullane

The humpback, the bowhead, the blue and the gray
The right whale, the spermwhale have near had their day
But here in their twilight there must be a way
To bring the kings back to the ocean

It's five thousand years they've been hunted and chased
From the warm Bay of Biscay to the Antarctic waste
Oft times to make shapely those ladies of taste
Whose perfume brought death to the ocean

The seven seas are deep and wide
Four ancient winds blow restlessly
There's neither peace nor place to hide
All for your bustles and bonnets

Gone are the days of the kayak and spear
The old sailing ships when a sailor knew fear
The harpoon explodes and the cannon's the gear
Wreaks the death some would still call a harvest

No more are the days when we netted and hauled
The factory ships slaughter what floats, swims or crawls
The law of the sea now is leave bugger all
To reap without sowing's the fashion