Radar

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The radar calls out but does anyone answer?
The sailor falls off, but does the crew go after?
The wayward ship finds itself in a rock and a hard place,
While the rest of the fleet find solace in a sheltered face.
The radar calls out. But does anyone answer?

Tired souls sing out, but will their lungs last much longer?
Like weeds in the sea, is the muffled hum stronger?
The wandering rabble live their days in a daze,
While the rest of the world like their world ablaze.
The radar calls. Out. But does anyone answer?

The heat can't escape, but does anyone help it?
The lungs fill with mist, do they take the chit?
The musty dark blanket drapes itself on this city,
While the cool air's gone away for ever and fifty.
The radar calls out. But. Does. Any. One. Answer?