“…To hear the rollers thunder on a shore that isn’t mine…” Doesn’t that just make your heart leap? Your skin tingle?
Mark Knopfler
I’m cooking up a Father’s Day dinner listening to Privateering, Mark Knopfler’s latest CD. Bob and I heard Knopfler perform this in Dublin, Ireland, on his 2011 tour. Yeah, we’re Knopfler groupies. Damn, this is gonna be a great father’s day dinner. It always is, when I cook to Mark Knopfler. Don’t mind my singing along. (Menu: Bacon wrapped jalapeno peppers, gorgonzola burgers, Waimea greens, Chainbreaker White IPA from Bend Oregon). Here’s to fathers and privateers. Cheers!
To really appreciate it, you have to hear it and sing along. With a bottle of beer in one hand and a spatula in the other.
Yon’s my Privateer
see how trim she lies
To every man a lucky hand
and to every man a prize
Come with me to Barbary
We’ll ply there up and down
Not quite exactly
in the service of the Crown