The Napoli

Midwinter, two years ago,
Out to the west a storm began to blow,
And the word went round to those in the know:
The Napoli's gonna run aground.
She's listing a week out of the docks,
A hundred containers a-heading for the rocks,
Gather round lads now, quick out of your blocks,
Everyone's Branscombe bound.
Said everyone's Sidmouth bound.
Come gangs from the north,
Lads off the moor,
Wreckers on the cliffs, get down to the shore.
Scratch Joe Public -
What's underneath?
A looter, and a pirate, and a thief.
All those boxes washed off the deck,
Right through the hand of the receiver of the wrecks
We ought to fill a form in, but no-one's gonna check,
Cause there ain't no coppers on the shore,
No, there ain't no coppers on the shore.
Come gangs from the north,
Lads off the moor,
Wreckers on the cliffs, get down to the shore.
Scratch Joe Public -
What's underneath?
A looter, and a pirate, and a thief.
Five and twenty ponies,
Trotting through the dark --
Brandy for the Parson,
Baccy for the Clerk,
Lace for a lady, letters for a spy;
Watch the wall my darling, while the gentlemen go by.
Come gangs from the north,
Lads off the moor,
Wreckers on the cliffs, get down to the shore.
Scratch Joe Public -
What's underneath?
A looter, and a pirate, and a thief.
Flotsam, jetsam,
Call it what you like.
I got a big oak barrel
And a german motorbike,
From Lyme bay to eBay,
Tell me where's the sin?
Everyone's a wrecker 'neath the skin...
Come gangs from the north,
Lads off the moor,
Wreckers on the cliffs, get down to the shore.
Scratch Joe Public -
What's underneath?
A looter, and a pirate, and a thief,
A looter and a pirate and a thief.