This poem, man, this poem.
The Little Girl That Lost a Finger
And a clam caught my little finger,
and the clam fell into the sand,
and the sand was swallowed by the sea,
and the whaler caught it in the sea,
and the whaler arrived at Gibraltar,
and in Gibraltar the fishermen sing:
"News of the earth we drag up from the sea,
news of a little girl's finger:
Let her who lost it come get it!"
Give me a boat to go fetch it,
and for the boat give me a captain,
for the captain give me wages,
and for his wages let him ask for the city:
Merseilles with towers and squares and boats,
in all the world the finest city,
which won't be lovely with a little girl
that the sea robbed of her finger,
and that the whalers chant for like town criers,
and that they're waiting for in Gibraltar...