And though it may be madness, I will take to the grave

Your precious long face

And though our bones they may break, and our souls seperate

Why the long face?

And though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil

Why the long face?

And in the trough of the waves

Which are pawing like dogs

Pitch, we pale faced, and grave

As I write in my log

Then I hear a noise from the hull

Seven days out to sea

And it is the damnable bell

And it tolls, well I believe that it tolls

It tolls for me! And it tolls for me!

And though my wrists and my waist seem so easy to break

Still my dear I’d have walked you to the edge of the water

And they will recognize all the lines of your face

In the face of the daughter of the daughter of my little daughter

And darling we will be fine, but what was yours and mine

Appears to me a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes

But if its all just the same, then will you say my name, say my name

In the morning so that I know when the wave breaks