On the seven seas, a lot of ships

Brave against the unknown

Face the horizon line

As the old boatswain



Storm and flat calm, the stars that guide

The vortex, a typhoon, billows and ice

Rum in veins, salt in hair

Of the old boatswain



Typhus and scurvy, no rain, lack of water

Crew one by one, they all die

The indifferent chill, the empty galley

Tied to the rudder the old boatswain



Hoisted the sails, figurehead on the prow

Tired arms have lost the course

Under a new Grey sky

Roams alone the old boatswain



Fog is hazing the sight, going adrift

Broken mast's falling down

A phantom ship with dead seamen

And one alive the old boatswain



Sail, go adrift to the fjords

Sail, go away from the north



Lost all the hopes and left all the faith

The old man prepares himself to die

But a light breaks the sky

And wind holds up the old boatswain



Just a wreckage ploughing the waves

Silver foam from the rotten tail

Now a smile appears on his face

A tired laughter from the old boatswain



Sail, go adrift to the fjords

Sail, go away from the north