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A Brexit is a Brexit and a shipping fleet’s a fleet.
We are an island nation and each one of us must eat.
We cannot feed ourselves, because our numbers are so many.
We carry not much freight today in ships. We have not any.

How is it done? You might well ask. How do we feed ourselves?
How do the supermarkets fill their cabinets and shelves,
With coconuts and mangoes and the best New Zealand lamb?
We do not live on Bara Brith nor joints of Wiltshire ham,

Nor Cheshire Cheese nor porridge oats nor puddings black from Bury.
We can’t survive on whisky and a smile from Mary Berry.
We must rely on shipping, then, from every foreign nation,
Or sixty-million bellies learn the meaning of starvation.

Foreign shipping. Foreign flag, with hieroglyphs upon it.
No Merchant Navy of our own. And nobody to run it.
We still are most dependent on our friends across the sea.
Without a fleet, no Brexit will protect our liberty.

For liberty does not exist for any island nation
Which cannot feed its people without help and supplication.
Charter parties, rates of freight, most strictly written down,
Mean nothing if there is not some allegiance to the Crown.

Allegiance? What is that you say? What is it that you mean?
That other nations all should bow and scrape before the Queen?
Of course I don’t. Of course they won’t. That is the point I make.
We need to build a Merchant Fleet – and quickly.  No mistake.