In the days of old Journeys to the middle of sea Brought fortunes from the products Of monsters
Yet one such fateful journeys would prove Trying to even the most hardened sea bearer For the beasts of the sea would take their revenge On a vessel of maritime lore
Somewhere in the deep south Near the grounds of great white beasts The ship approached to pillage them for their greed
When one struck back, the vessel took to the deep Now abondoned, stranded on small open boats Three doomed parties left on the open sea
What lye ahead was ninety days To endure the harsh elements and insanity Nothing but hard bread and stale water A diet of ocean slavery
When the storm came to feed The crew was left with nothing Left starving and hungry Winds of unbelievable nature Waves upon waves, the beating
Watching the bailing till morning The rain it never goes away The nights never seem to end
Day by day the famine grows worse Exposed to the full force of the meridian sun Without shield, the burning influence pierces through skin The thirst unbearable, fastly wasting away
Dying from the elements One boat lost at sea Survival would soon turn to depravity
And out they spoke And out they spoke for lots of flesh and blood And who should die And who should die for a fellow's food
As one fell to weakness The corpse ready to be disposed In the sea Lying there like a tasty meal of salty meat In that, they should find relief from present sufferings So preparations were made to preserve the meat From spoilage Separate the limbs - Cut the flesh from bones Open the chest - Take out the heart
Now the cravings of nature Could be eagerly devoured A most deplorable and affecting picture Of suffering and miseryTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
