The Seasick Prayer of Memphis May

the last words of a whaler, lost at sea from Bay Leaf Bay

Take my strength away while I rest

I won't take one more drop today

Give my breaths, sell my steps

I'll take them back when next I wake

My legs are tired and my eyes are sore

My fire is cold, but fuel's to burn

Give mine to someone still awake

Someone who still has salt to earn

I know that you hate it, such a waste

But I cannot step one more step

My legs can scarcely bear my weight

So take me when the sun has set

So take the smoke that fills my lungs

For I won't need it while I sleep

And take my table filled with food

I'll fill it again, when next I eat

So take my strength away while I rest

I won't sweat one more bead today

Take my breaths, share my steps

I'll take them back -- If ever I wake