A Salty Dog
Procol Harum
...
"All hands on deck, we've run afloat!"
I heard the captain cry
"E plore the ship, Replace the cook:
Let no one leave alive!"
Across the straits, around the Horn:
How far can sailors fly?
A twisted path, our tortured course,
And no one left alive
We sailed for parts unknown to man
Where ships come home to die
No lofty peak, no fortress bold
Could match our captain's eye
Upon the seventh sea sick day
We made our port of call
A sand so white and sea so blue
No mortal place at all
...
We fired the gun and burnt the mast
And rowed from ship to shore
The captain cried, we sailors wept:
Our tears were tears of joy
Now many moons and many Junes
Have passed since we made land
A salty dog, this seaman's log:
Your witness my own hand
.
Thank You
