Winds blow and furl the once calm sea
into a furrowed rolling row.
A sailor’s grave and destiny
within the dark deep depths below.

Yea though I tread oceans mighty,
though my life the blue seas shall keep.
I break the sail to end a journey
and in thy hands my soul will sleep.

Of the deep perilous waters
and the setting sun’s waning light,
a sailor’s life is what matters
though the ship’s sails are still at night.

Red skies shall bathe the fading cloud
as dolphins drift and rise the wave.
A sail becomes a sailor’s shroud
as waters blue became his grave.

To sail the blue ocean mighty
and brace the main before the storm.
To live the life and sail hardy
into the way of peril’s harm.