The Washing Up Undone

Like the Greeks at Salamis
With nowhere left to run
I had to face my enemy
The 'Washing-Up Undone'

The hunger that lay heavy
Was weakening my fleet
So as Themistocles had done
I turned and faked retreat

Those filthy forks and greasy spoons
And half encrusted knives
Came sailing on the filthy sea
In search of taking lives

In terrifying numbers
They flew into the straits
But I in ready waiting
Cleaned all those cups and plates!