Look at those oysters,
just a few hours ago they were shifting
on the ocean floor,
until a solitary Scottish diver came,
swaying in the night time North Sea
like an idea in a simple giant's mind,
to pick them, and carry them
up through the heavy water
and out into the air,
to here, presented on a plate,
white as snow, smooth as marble
hard as bone.
And so it goes,
until the last cover leaves
and the submarine slows
and the waiters shed their gold,
Sheers repeats this line again, a refrain that reminds us of the inevitability of this type of work, accepted seemingly without question by the hard-working staff.
Service