The Lone Boatman's Song

I have been rowing on these cold waters for millenia, never ferried a man that wasn't so stoned,

In the power of his life before; and yet, now cold to the bone.



I haven't lived a short life, but my toil has been nought in my master's eyes,

He tames the dead men's souls, and I am his boatman on the Styx.



An old man says, " Can you sing me a melody, for I was a king yesterday?"

"I fought many battles and killed many, I was the man that none could slay."



The wretch says, " Can you tell me oh kind boatman, will I be cold on that side of the river?"

"For I lived on the streets and passed many cold nights, and nobody cared if I ran a fever."



The pretty girl asks, "Will the Dark Lord have mercy on me, for it was because that I failed in love and so took my life?"

I tell her not that her mother is standing by the ghat waiting for my boat, for she slit herself with the same knife.



The rebel sings a joyful song, for he thinks he died a hero,

But I know his ideals won't get him far here, the corridors of hell are indeed narrow.



The prostitute cries, weeps that she found no love while she lived,

Well I tell her, here we keep all forlorn men, you will find one you can keep.



I hurry them off the boat and the minions take them to their cold cells,

And I row, back on the way to the ghat, for I have to row back on my way to hell.