Of Ships And The Sea

Sing me a song of fine old ships,
Of fine old ships and the sea,
With hulls that ply the rolling waves
Like a claymore flying free;
And bulkheads that can bear the strain
All built of wood and steel,
That rise up like a cathedral
From a massive bolted keel.
Sing me a song of hardy men,
Who toil in the shipwright's trade,
Who bend their backs from dawn 'till dusk
By whom these ships are made.
For months on end with saws and nails,
With red hot bolts and steel,
They build a ship from bilge to deck
On a massive bolted keel.

Sing me a song of men that sail
In ships on the seven seas,
Who ride the waves in storm and gale
And laugh with the ocean's breeze;
Who man the decks in rain or shine
In ships of wood and steel,
With hulls that rise like a great church roof
From a massive bolted keel.


From massive bolted keels they rise,
These ships of wood and steel,
Built by men who toil all day,
With muscle, sweat and zeal.
Built with the shipwright's craft and skill
For the lads who sail the seas,
Who ply the foam in a hull for home,
And laugh with the ocean's breeze.