Words: Robert S. Smith
Music: Robbie Smith
I have been kind to the whaler,
And I have been kind to the whale,
For my soul is the soul of a sailor,
As I whittle the era of sail.
And I carve out the whalebone awaiting
The strokes of my whittling knife,
And the bones and my blade find a mating
That treats of the sea-faring life.
And the lap of my blade on the whitening shoal
Carves lightly in scrimshaw my sea-tendered soul…
And I swear if this soul of a whaler
Was wrecked on the sea-broken stones,
I’d take it as kind if some sailor
So honoured my whitening bones…
Yes, I’d take it as kind if some sailor
So honoured my whitening bones.