Give me no lip, the waves roll by as I pass on a sunlit sea on the first day of April.
How fresh the wind, will you miss me when I'm gone?
How many words, how many songs still unwritten?
How many ships of the line have come and gone in the good old days?
May they never be forgotten, they had heavy wind or they had no wind at all.
A passing ship, it is midnight on the ocean. Had a real long trip, I have been at sea all winter.
When my ship came in, I was giving up the ghost.
I think I should be leaving those passing ships alone.
When the sea runs high, the sea runs wild and I'm unsteady and I think of you.
In the warmth of your home and family when love is true,
there is no truer occupation and may this gale blow us to the ones we love.
Another day, another ocean, give me no lip.
But stand aside as I pass on a sunlit sea
On the last day of October, how fresh the wind.
Will you miss me from now on, I guess I should be leaving passing ships alone.