Capo’d at the 2nd fret
I was born a land-bound
farm
boy and
in New
England
raised,
The rippling of the
wheat fields, well they
were my ocean
waves.
Each
cry and call, each
rise and
fall, of the
crows a-
cross the
corn
Were seagulls
swooping a-
cross the
bow, of a
ship I dreamed I'
d sail
a-round
Cape
Horn.
My deck was the dusty
farm
yard, my
mast was the
telegraph
pole
And the windblow choir in the
telephone wire was the
call heard in my
soul
And it seemed to
have been
singing
since the day that
I was
born
I’m gonna take a
trip on a
sailing
ship,
all the way
around the
wild Cape
Horn
Well I found that ship in
Ham
burg, her
name it
was Peki
ng
Our skipper’s name wa
s Captain Jürs, and I
’d never met a man
like him.
He pulled two men out
from the
sea, by the
hair, in a
raging
storm.
And he kept that
grip on a
sailing
ship,
all the way
around the
wild Cape
Horn.
Well its four hours on and its four hours off
and you sleep in your wet
clothes
The only dry thing
on the ship is the
cargo
down be
low
Eleven thousand
miles we
sailed,
nigh on one
hundred
dawns
Thirty two
sails on a
heaving
ship, pulling us
around the
wild cape
horn
Well the cargo weighed five
thousand
tons, the
ship three
thousand
more.
An acre of sail
was up aloft, some
seventeen storeys
tall.
And we had a pig, and a
scruffy
dog and a
turkey
fed on
corn.
And willing
hands who
catch the
wind, hauling us
around the
wild Cape
Horn.
For seventeen days we
were
becalmed and then
Friday
the thirt
eenth
Sixty eight great
ships were lost in the
storm of the
century.
But we were swept into the
Atlanti
c, on a
sun-lit
sparkling
morn,
The turkey got
sick, so we
ate him
quick, on the way
around the
wild Cape
Horn.
Well she had us sort of hypnotised, no
time to catch our
breath,
If you want to feel
real alive, well you
have to
flirt with
death.
Sail close to the
harnessed
wind, and
treat all
risks with
scorn
A farm boy
and an
un-yoked t
eam, ploughed their way
around the
wild Cape
Horn.
Now on that voyage we
lost two
boys, they
got thrown
overb
oard.
Silence from us
down below, no
one could put in
words.
Two empty bunks to
mark the
space in
our young
lives to
mourn,
Voids
between all
life and
death, on the way
around the
wild Cape
Horn
And mountain waves, like
ava
lanches
crashed
upon the
decks,
The screaming winds snapped
ropes and spars, and
tried to have us
wrecked.
But she rose and fell through
foam and
swell, her
sails were
ripped and
torn
Eight thousand
tons
tossed like a
cork, on the way
around the
wild Cape
Horn.
And she had us sort of hypnotised, no
time to catch our
breath,
If you want to feel
real alive, well you
have to
flirt with
death.
Sail close to the
harnessed
wind, and
treat all
risks with
scorn
A farm boy
and an
un-yoked t
eam, ploughed their way
around the
wild Cape
Horn.
Well, a farm boy
and
un-yoked
team, ploughed their way
around the
wild Cape
Horn.