No more command. Drifting on an ebbing tide. Eight bells have rung and your service is done. A new master awaits you on the other side. The ship is anchored. The ship is anchored. All shipmates on the deck to greet you. All sailors are now of equal rank and they keep watching you as you ascend the goddamn plank. Sink to the bottom. No stars to steer by. This is the final voyage. Goodbye old ship I hear you cry. Ascend the plank.