| In 18 hundred and 59, the engineer Brunel,
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| Would build the greatest ship afloat, and rule the ocean’s swell.
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| Nineteen thousand tons of steel they used to shape the mighty keel,
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| Forged inside the smelter where they made the gates of Hell…
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| And the name upon the contract, Isambard Brunel.
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| As day-by-day the monster grew, the engineer Brunel,
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| Would watch the devil’s handiwork, and woe betide a man who shirks,
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| Or slows the pace to build the keel, nineteen thousand tons of steel,
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| Anyone with eyes to see is but a bride of Hell,
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| And the name upon the draftsman’s chart, Isambard Brunel.
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| A riveter was on the hull with his apprentice lad,
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| He’d served his time with the older man, some say it was his dad.
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| 200 men upon the shift but when the day is done,
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| The count is hundred 98… before the setting sun,
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| They searched the yard all through the night until the morning bell,
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| No more delays are countenanced by Isambard Brunel,
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| And so they work a double shift, to make the time in full,
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| No mention of the missing men… they seal the double hull.
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| The ship was launched upon the tide and all the townsfolk cheered,
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| A brass band played but not a word of omens they had feared,
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| But before the afternoon was out, the celebration wrecked,
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| A dignitary clutched his heart… and collapsed upon the deck.
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| No doctors could revive him as the telegraphs would tell,
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| And the name upon the coffin… Isambard Brunel.
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| And now upon the open sea, the mighty ship did plough,
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| But many feared the darkness, in the shadow of its prow.
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| An explosion on the lower deck, would take the souls of five,
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| With a growing superstition 'mong the sailors still alive.
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| The captain and his boy are lost while rowing to the shore,
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| The crew will threaten mutiny and say they’ll work no more,
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| They began to say the ship was cursed, they hadn’t even seen the worst,
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| They’d signed on able-bodied men, but they wouldn’t sail to Hell…
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| When the name upon the manifest is Isambard Brunel.
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| For 14 years that ship will sail, misfortune taken hard,
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| The owners barely find a crew to reach the breakers' yard.
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| And as they take the plates apart, unseal the double hull,
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| The breakers call the foreman o’er, they’d found a human skull.
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| And then they find the younger man, perforced to understand,
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| That in the hour of their torment, he’d reached his father’s hand.
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| In 18 hundred and 59, the engineer Brunel,
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| Would build the greatest ship afloat, and rule the mighty swell.
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| The final shift was over, and the breakers' hammers fell,
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| And the name upon the manifest, the contract signed in Hell,
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| Was the same as on the draftsman’s chart… one Isambard Brunel. |