On a cold dismal tideway,
Fingers stiff and sore
Strong smell of sewage
As we train in the four
Off the bows in the distance,
out in the fast fading light
Steering's heavy and my view is grim
But what's that just out of sight?
Why is the launch closing on us?
I hear some loud anxious yells
And I am thinking to myself
The eight are telling us something as well
Then I gripped on the handle
as I started to pray
All the voices were much louder now
I clearly heard them say
Move over here, the Black Buoy is right behind you!
Our collective lives
Flashed before our eyes
Hold it up hard, the Black Buoy is right behind you!
We're far too near
I can feel the fear
I brace myself for the impact;
So glad I'm sitting at stroke
Bowman's laughing like a maniac,
But it's no joke
He's got certain concussion,
I just got wet
Now he can't remember,
What I want to forget
So I called up the Captain
Swore at me down the line
He said,
We haven't split a boat in two since eighteen fifty-nine
Didn't you hear them shouting from far away?
Still wake up in the middle of the night
And can hear them say
Move over here, the Black Buoy is right behind you!
Horror on my face
'Cause we're at race pace
Hold it up HARD, the Black Buoy is right behind you!
Now we're really screwed
It's not like it's moved
The stern sits on the racking
Bows lost to the mud
Coach says
You're never steering again
Half of Thames heard the thud
But on the gloomy tideway
Another crew meets it's end
We hit it with a coxless four
But Empachers don't bend.
Sent it to the boatman
Tried to fix it, it's true
The boat was never quite the same... now the bow is mostly glue
Now I'm back in the stroke seat
No more rowing with shocks,
The black buoy taught me well that day
Don't row without a cox
