You say "well met again, Lock-keeper"
We're late and even deeper than the time before
Oriental oils and tea brought down from Singapore
As we wait for my lock to cycle, I see my wife has given me a son
"A son!?" you cried, "is that all that you've done?"
She wears Bougainvillaea blossom
You pluck 'em from her hair and toss them in the tide
Sweep her in your arms and carry her inside
Her size catch on your shoulder
Her moonlit eyes grow bold and wiser through her tears
And I say to you: "how could you leave her for the year?"
"So, come with me!" you cried
"To where the southern cross rides high upon your shoulder."
"Come with me!" you cried
"Each day you tend this lot, you're one day older"
While your blood grows colder
But that anchor chains of fetter
And with it you are tethered to the foam
And I would not trade your life for one hour of home
Sure, I'm stuck here on the sea-way
While you compensate for leeway through the trades
And you shoot the stars to see the miles you've made
And you laugh at the heart shiv riven
But which of these has given us more love or life
You; your tropic mate's or me; my wife?
"So, come with me!" you cried
"To where the southern cross rides high upon your shoulder."
"Come with me!" you cried
"Each day you tend this lot, you're one day older"
While your blood grows colder
But that anchor chains of fetter
And with it you are tethered to the foam
And I would not trade your life for one hour of home
But that anchor chains of fetter
And with it you are tethered to the foam
And I would not trade your life for one hour of home