Ferryman - Rachel Sermanni

I asked the old man about crossing the river

«How much do you charge for the ferry boat?»

He told us he wasn’t a fisher

He’d punt us across without asking

But caution was there in his rowing

«For love like this», he said, «don't ever float.»

We stood at the heaviest door we could knock on

And asked if we might in there have some sleep

The innkeeper looked on us solemn

But welcomed us in without asking

His bread and his wine though was bitter

«For love like this,» he said, «don't ever keep.»

The harbour in moonlight was a peaceful picture

We asked if we might have our boat here dock

The fisherman’s eye watched us narrow

But still took our gold without asking

The other hand clutching an idol

«For love like this,» he said, «will bring bad luck.»

And sure come the morning they came looking

They came wading cross the river

They knocked on the heaviest door

Put dirt on the floor

And took us down to the shore

And told us no more we could be

I asked the old man about crossing the river