Oh Captain Shift Captain

O Captain! Shift Captain! Apology to Walt Whitman O Captain! Shift Captain! Our dreadful shift is done, The bar has survived the night, the clock has ticked to one, Let’s have a beer, that’s silence I hear, the drunkards all exiting While follow steps on unsteady knees, the vagrants soused and high; But O stomach! Stomach! Stomach! O the putrid drips of vomit Where on the floor my Captain lies Passed out, drunk as dead. O Captain! Shift Captain! Get up and pay our wages Get up-for you the party’s over-for us our anger rages, For you a tepid pool of urine-for you the door’s a-closing For you we call, your disgruntled staff, our eager palms extended; Now Captain! Dumb manager! Your arms beneath your head! It is your routine that on the floor, You pass out every night. My Captain does not respond, his eyes are glassy and bloodful, Our Manager does not feel our pain, he has no heart nor soul, The bar is closed safe and secure, its neon sign turned off, From a wild night the popular bar closes with profit won; Complain O staff, and wring O hands! ’Cause I with no one else’s aid, Nudge the butt of Captain who lies, Fallen and we don’t get paid.