The Fisherman's Song
Copyright Andy Stewart written about how bad it sucks to have to fish or otherwise boat on the North Sea. Performed by Silly Wizard on Wild And Beautiful CD

              Em             G                                   Am
By the storm-torn shoreline, a woman is standing
         Em                        G                 Em
The spray strung like jewels in her hair
              Em                  G                                       Am
And the sea tore the rocks on that desolate landing
    Em    G                                    Am Em
As if it had known she stood there

                        Em                      G                                          Am
Chorus:  And she has come down to condemn that wild ocean
               Em             G                Em
For the murderous loss of her man
                            G                              Am
His boat sailed out on Wednesday morning
                Em                 G                            Am Em
And it's feared she's gone down with all hands

               Em                     G                                                Am
And it's white were the wave-caps and wild was their parting
        Em              G              Em
So fierce is the warring of love
               Em                   G                                       Am
But she prayed to the gods, both of men and of sailors
              Em           G                         Am Em
Not to cast their cruel nets o'er her love       Chorus

                    Em                  G                                   Am
Now, what force leads a man to a life filled with danger
               Em            G                  Em
High on seas or a mile underground ?
                  Em            G                                    Am
It's when need is his master and pain is no stranger
                    Em            G                Am Em
And there's no other work to be found                Chorus

                   Em                G                                              Am
There's a school on the hill where the son's of dead sailors
       Em               G                     Em
Are led toward tempests and gales
                        Em             G                                                 Am
Where their God-given wings are clipped close to their bodies
                  Em            G                                  Am Em
And their eyes are bound round with ships' sails          Chorus
 

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