C Am
Capo 3
Walking through long wet grass
Dm G
Swinging my old windlass
C Am F G
I trudge from lock to lock, rarely on board
C Am
Stepping through muddy pools
Dm G
Why am I such a fool?
C Am G C
A love of canals should bring more reward
C Am Dm G
Raise up the paddle and push on the balance beam
C Am F G
Cold in the pouring rain, Open that gate
C Am Dm G
Then trudge round t’other side, Why is it just too wide
C Am G C
Don’t drop the windlass, Whoops, it’s too late!
He’s steers a narrowboat
Why’s that so difficult?
Eating and drinking while floating along,
Slowing to say hello
Listening to Status Quo
Swearing at fishermen, all the day long
Call this a holiday?
All I see’s work not play
Cooking and cleaning’s no labour of love
Then when the locks appear
Open those lock gates, dear!
Cries from the captain to give one more shove
Hands slip on balance beam
I let out such a scream
Turn black and blue with each full bloodied bruise
While down in the lock below
He sips a red Bordeaux
Senses KO’d by a skinful of booze
Then when the boating’s done
He thinks it’s time for fun
Batteries charged from sitting all day
He grins like a Cheshire cat
Until he’s turned down flat
The captain deflates like a cooling soufflé
© I H Bruce 2008
I think this was one of the the first canal songs I wrote. The lines 'walking through long wet grass,
swinging my old windlass' came about as I did just that on the Staffs and Worcs Canal near Gailey.
Unlike a seemingly high proportion of male boaters, I do actually operate locks, where I meet a
seemingly high proportion of women doing the same. As they often do all the household (boat)
chores and the cooking, I wondered just how much of a holiday it was for them. The song is written
from that female perspective.
Call this a Holiday?