I, being an ancient mariner
Of slightly unsound mind
Do leave this deposition
Of the things I leave behind.
I leave my body to the sea,
For it needs no mausoleum,
And I leave my dear stuffed albatross
To Porlock Museum.
To the wedding guest: apologies
For giving him heebie-jeebies
That day when I somewhat overdid
The ‛alone on a wide wide sea’ biz.
It was the laudanum put my brain
A little out of balance.
I leave my supply to young Coleridge,
Who downs the stuff in gallons.
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