Tuna Wishing

The boat's headed into the chop coming back we'll have following seas. Mac's left alone at the helm, I'm fighting stomach unease. I stand at the fold down cut bench With the cardboard box stinking of fish It's causing my belly to wrench As I open it both nostrils clench Knife in my hand I just wish The buckets were already full Working as fast as I can To get through this miserable chore I cut up the pieces in chunks Dropping into the bucket kerplunk As the juices run into the bucket I run to the side and just chuck it. Finished at last with them covered I stand inside next to the cupboard Mac hands me the bone and I suck it In no time at all I'm back having a ball And the dog and his master are laughing I finally get to go fishing For tuna without being sick Mac's grinning and starting to hum That's a little bit early to chum Chum