Because beneath grey Northern skies
Some grey hulls heave and fall,
The merchants sell their merchandise
All just as usual;
Our cargoes sail for man's content
The same as yesterday,
And war-risk's down to 2 per cent.,
The underwriters say.
The clerks they sit with page and pen
And fill the desks a-row,
Because outside of Cuxhaven
There's them to make it so;
We go to lunch, as natural,
From one o'clock till two,
Because outside of Kiel Canal
There's those that let us do.
We check and add our pass-books up
Or keep our weekly Boards
Unhampered by the works of KRUPP
And all the KAISER'S swords;
At five o'clock we have our tea
And catch our usual bus--
So thank the LORD for those at sea
Who guard the likes of us.
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