Moses came to Merseyside 

and waved his magic staff. 

It was his trademark trick and so 

it always got a laugh. 

 

He turned up at New Brighton, 

and shouted from the beach: 

I’m going to make the Mersey part 

- it’s only two quid each! 

 

And Moses spake – at quite some length 

though muffled by his beard 

and people shuffled, keen to start 

- that’s why they’d volunteered. 

 

The kids all took his picture 

as he stood there in his robe. 

There was someone from council 

there was someone from the Globe. 

 

And all of them let out a gasp 

when Moses raised his hand - 

the waves receded, rolling back 

til the river bed was… land. 

 

The habitat was suddenly 

more coastal than marine 

from Egremont to Pier Head 

- a long walk in between 

 

When Moses split the Mersey 

he said: Come on let’s go, 

but don’t be straggling behind - 

you’ve just an hour or so. 

 

On Fort Perch Rock, a crowd of folk 

had gathered to observe 

the faithful few traverse the gorge 

- the ones who had the nerve. 

 

And birds of prey on roof tops 

looked down with greedy eyes 

as they set out from New Brighton, 

without compass or supplies. 

 

The surface was uneven, 

a panoramic sight: 

old prams and shopping trolleys 

and various other shite. 

 

past rusty junk and sunken hulks 

they shuffled on, quite stunned 

to see the bones of murdered men 

and all we’ve jettisoned. 

 

And what was it that drove them 

to slog on without stopping? 

The Phil, the footie or the Crack? 

the shipping or the shopping? 

 

They turned to look at Wirral now 

- how very small it seemed, 

how very grey and far away - 

but how Liverpool gleamed! 

 

And how the Liver Buildings loomed 

on cliffs that once were docks 

now high above their heads – so far 

they could not see the clocks. 

 

And Moses muttered something 

his voice an utter blur 

- so difficult to comprehend 

through so much facial hair. 

 

Some remarked how tired he looked 

- his staff now seemed to quiver 

and what’s that watery trickling sound? 

and: Here comes the river! 

 

And everybody for themselves 

legged it to higher ground 

they clung to ropes or climbed the walls. 

Only a few were drowned. 

 

This side is ace, the rest agreed, 

(except the drugs and crime) 

if there was a just a way for us 

to come here all the time. 

 

And so they built a tunnel 

for they knew – without a doubt – 

if they did it without Moses 

they could get across for nowt. 

 

But we all know that nothing’s free 

- even a giant hole. 

You can cross the Mersey any time 

but the tunnel takes its toll. 

 

So Wirral folk still stranded 

on the river’s other side 

still talk about the time that 

Moses came to Merseyside. 

 

And we all smile wistfully 

when we think about how Moses 

gets almost everywhere for free 

while we pay through our noses.