A small boy waits in the darkening room
Peering out into the gathering gloom
Nose pressed up against the pane
Staring out at the driving rain
He's five years old, his father's gone
Has he been bad? 
Done something wrong?
He doesn't like it on his own
When is his daddy coming home?

And who will tuck me in tonight
Rub your head turn out the light
If you listen to the wind outside
You just might hear your daddy cry
Hear your daddy cry

He's sailing out on the Seven Seas
The whole world is his port of call
A box of postcards says it all
Out on the radio, I could be wrong
I thought they played his favorite song
It said hold on son it won't be long
I don't know where that's coming from

And who will tuck me in tonight
Rub your head turn out the light
If you listen to the wind outside
You just might hear your daddy cry
Hear your daddy cry