Gordon Bok – Patrick Spencer (Guitar)

  G/B         Am                    F                        C
Oh, don't the moon look pretty, she sails like a ship in the sky

Dm                      G                      F                       G7   C
Darling, you don't know nothing about sailing, she's got a cast in her eye

         G/B        Am                     F                   C
When the moon weeps silvery tears, you can look for a terrible storm

  Dm                     G                 F          G            C
I pity the sailor that's out tomorrow, I'm glad I can bide here at home

       G/B        Am           F                     C
If you be Patrick Spencer, and that man you'd better be

         Dm          G                    F                  G7
I have a letter here from the King, he commands you to go to sea

     C         G/B            Am            F                          C
It's little he thinks of your danger, as he sits with his wine and his song

    Dm                 G                 F            G             C
His little daughter in far Norway, she's sick and she wants to come home

         C         G/B      Am            F                  C
Well, he could have sent me greetings, he could have cast me blame

Dm                       G                    F                   G7
He could have asked me a hundred favours, god knows, I'd never complain

         G       G/B       Am             F                C
But this running up in the rigging with a hurricane on the wing

     Dm                  G                 F       G            C
It's come to a matter of life and death to have to pleasure the King

         G/B    Am               F                     C
Standing out to sea that day, oh lord, it commenced to rain

    Dm                     G                 F                    G7    C
The waves like the tops of mountains and the wind like a thing in pain

        G/B     Am                         F                   C
Patrick Spencer calls for his glass and he puts it in Johnny's hand

         Dm                 G                    F          G       C
Saying, "Run up, Johnny, as high as you can, and see if you see any land"

        G/B       Am           F               C
"No land, Patrick Spencer, nor ever a sight of shore"

      Dm                  G                        F                 G7    C
"Well than, give it over, lads", he cried, "you'll never see home anymore

      G/B       Am                    F                  C
Never mind your buckled shoes, you'll wet more than your feet

    Dm                 G                     F          G       C
And as for this letter from the King, it's a damn small winding-sheet"

C          G/B  Am                F                      C
Christinie be a long, long time a-waiting for me to come home

        Dm                  G                 F               G7
And the cold, cold sea be a long, long time a-washing over my bones

    C             G/B      Am                     F              C
And that man that told the King about me, well, I wish I had him here

    Dm                   G                        F         G          C
The very last favour I'd ever have granted, is to carry him under with me