Amongst the high seas
And at best hope,
To make it to the docks
For the storms that brew
Are as strong as my love
And they weave fears
In my stern and bow
I will Hold my drift
I will Keep me afloat
Should the waves lash against me
I shall Remind me
That I have been there before
Though I have braved a million storms
This journey is lone
No mates, no love
Then at dusk should I reach the shore
I shall walk into the tavern
And drink a brew, or four
And then walk on along
Without a care
Vanish from this town
Into the fog.
No comments:
Post a Comment