The Storm - Seth Lakeman

Make us ready boys all with wonder born

We’ll guide this fair ship and sail towards the morn

Come on all alas, now here’s the master dear

I fear this deadly storm is coming to us near

We sailed from Plymouth Sound in a week or three

With not that far to go boys, some canons to retrieve

The night it grew much darker and the wind it came in strong

And it grew upon us lads and there was nothing to be done

The waves grew higher and broke upon our ship

Then poor old master’s taken with nothing left to grip

Drop the anchor downwards and throw him out a line

Poor old master’s overboard he be swallowed by the tide

So hear my warning that I give to you

Be careful when your sailing with that lucky few

Tie up every deck hand tightly 'til the morn

And well go together boys in the belly of the storm

Don’t go sailing out with me, I fear your soul be lost at sea