The Last Nail

The Last Nail


The Last Nail – St Monan’s Boatyard

Originally uploaded by AndyRob

The Last Nail – A Song

The Last Nail is a recently finished song for the old boatyard at St Monan’s in Scotland, with general reference to traditional craft industries.

The Last Nail Lyrics

Above the stone walled harbour, or down the winding hill,
That’s where they built the boatyard, and the structure stands there still.
Not much boat building happens now, just repairs and fitting out
but when the wind rattles the boatmasts, you can hear the old boatbuilders shout:

Will you pass the last nail over and I’ll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she’ll be ready for the race.

Our grandfathers put up the boatyard, to build the fishing fleet,
more than fifty boats in the harbour, and shops all down the main street
then the steam age brought in the drifters, boat builders became engineers
Now the wind blows straight through the boatyard, there’ll be no more boat building here

Will you pass the last nail over and I’ll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she’ll be ready for the race.

With a keen eye for staying in business, they switched over to build leisure craft
And the weekend yachtsmen snapped them up, no expense spared fore or aft
Then wooden hulls went out of fashion, the order book emptied last year
So the bankers foreclosed on the boatyard,
and there’ll be no more boatbuilding here

Will you pass the last nail over and I’ll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she’ll be ready for the race.

Now the Vikings invented the clinker for both strength and shallow seas
and the herring boats followed the coastline, until the canning ships found the key
There’s a regatta here every August, and the whole village turns out again
But the Sea Queen’s no real competition, and it’s guaranteed to rain

Will you pass the last nail over and I’ll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she’ll be ready for the race.

Above the stone walled harbour, or down the winding hill
that’s where they built the boatyard, and the skeleton stands there still.
No more boat building happens now, not even fitting out
but when the wind rattles the boatmasts, you can still hear the old boys shout:

Will you pass the last nail over, we’ll knock it into place,
Then with four more coats of varnish, she’ll be ready for the race.

the last nail

the last nail

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The Last Nail

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