Dawson’s Mitzvah

 

Hymie Dawson was the captain of the Christian and her crew
And he flew the ship named Christian in the War of '82.
Now the Christian was a kosher ship of well-deserving fame
And the crew of Hymie Dawson was the same.

Keeping Shabbes near the second moon that circles Feivel's Sun
They were jumped by three chazzonim,
	though they hadn't strength for one.
Now as Dawson's crew stood ready and they sent out the alarm
They were glad they had remembered to dress warm.

No-one living saw that tummel but some kibbitzer named Elms
So what else do you expect, with ten schlemazels at the helms?
When they finally schlepped in, and all that system scoured clean
Not a trace of Dawson's hoo-ha could be seen.


	There are tales about the Schnorrer, the 
					Farblonjet and the Naar,
	There are tales of Chelm's Chaloshes, though it 
						didn't get too far;
	But the tale that flips my yarmulke, because I know it's true
	Is the tale of Hymie Dawson and his crew,
	Yes, the captain of the Christian was a Jew.


I was baleboss on Minyan, with a good brave crew of ten
Bringing extra sets of dishes to a colony of fen.
We had finished all our davening, about to shut the light
When the pirate ships showed up, oh what a fright.

With four pirates on our tail, some kind of hero I should be?
For we had no ammunition, just a chachem on deck three.
We were ready to surrender-- Gottenyu!  We couldn't fight!
When a ship appeared and cast a blinding light.

First we thought it was a rabbi, but our sensors were at fault;
Then I thought it was my mother, but she didn't yell gevalt!
But the stranger was a landsman, and we wouldn't end up dead
For we sighted her mezuzah glowing red.


	And that cruiser's guns were hotter than fresh kreplach on the boil
	And that cruiser's aim was surer than the hand of any mohel
	And without the least rachmones they destroyed the pirate band
	A mechiah from that ship so ably manned
	A mechiah from that ship so ably manned.

Well, we hailed that ship to thank them, but their
					shields went down instead
And we saw-- oy vey-- our chaverim had long ago been dead.
But the markings were familiar;  'twas the Christian, and we'd seen
Their Neshumas like to keep the spaceways clean.

Well we made a heartfelt broche as they faded out from sight
And we watched as Dawson's Christian disappeared into the night;
After what they'd done for us, it was the least that we could do
For the ghosts of Hymie Dawson and his crew.
'Twas a simcha and a mitzvah from all her crew!