Bound to sail these ugly seas
and hear the seagull's call
Doomed to hear the rat-tat-tat
of the quarter master's call

The salt wind blows the slave boss
crows making my skin crawl
As I row this cross of mine
to the place of the skull

Hour after hour rowing
on this worn out bench
My only crime to do this time
was my own common sense

To deny the Son means freedom's won,
but I can't deny His name
So I'm chained to this my blood
soaked fist rowing 'till I am slain

See also:
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