The Whsitler

Lend me your ear and I’ll tell you a tale,
a man who still whistles on the waves up ahead,
listen to the waters as they sing his long-awaited story.
He rose up one day to feel that things were long past due,
looked inside, saw shadows of places he’d be going to,
he looked behind for a moment, then said,
«I will not look that way again»
CHORUS
So roll the land to where I lay, lady,
fist still raised to the sky,
hand to your heart, you’ll remember me in tales as they carry me on by…
The man set out for his city cast in gold,
bade farewell to his mother, said, «take care at home.»
he kissed goodbye his darling, said, «We'll one day meet again.»
He sailed through the bay, out to a stormy night
armed with his father’s pistol strapped to his side,
to face the open sea he had to take the roughest waves as his ride…
He stood his ground out on the open deck,
through sheets of rain, the wheel he set direct ahead,
and the wave that brought him over was the best and biggest he had ever seen…
So child as you take a ride out on the open sea,
don’t be afraid when you do hear the song that he did leave —
out on those waters his tale will be floating at your side…