05-11-2013, 11:15 PM
The Skies were dark Grey
I could have turned back
Now easterly gusts, show me this fact
The beans groan, the wood clatters
It whisper about
How my Pride and my Judgement
Could have kept us about
The men, they take notice
in all hurricane and Woe
they look up to me
It is my cargo, my burden
their sunken deep stow
but now easterly we head, echoed by the next moon
it speaks of our sovereignty, my pride and their doom
I could have turned back
Now easterly gusts, show me this fact
The beans groan, the wood clatters
It whisper about
How my Pride and my Judgement
Could have kept us about
The men, they take notice
in all hurricane and Woe
they look up to me
It is my cargo, my burden
their sunken deep stow
but now easterly we head, echoed by the next moon
it speaks of our sovereignty, my pride and their doom