| I was walking by the water | 
| My heart full aching sore | 
| The seagulls of Seattle | 
| Wheeled above the shore | 
| I stepped inside a tavern | 
| For oyster chowder and brown ale | 
| The hidden sun was sinking | 
| Behind the distant sails | 
| And in my mind dear memories | 
| Like rolling waves unfurled | 
| All the water places | 
| I’ve been to with you, girl | 
| The north-west by the Pindan | 
| The salty, heavy sea | 
| The days we laid on Cable Beach | 
| And read beneath the tree | 
| To the sandhills all deserted | 
| Hand in hand we stole away | 
| And there inside a shady glade | 
| We made a bed to lay | 
| Hot, sweet days in southern Spain | 
| Fish and rice and wine | 
| Swimming in deep water | 
| Then later on entwined | 
| I was covering the waterfront | 
| Like John Lee in Days of Yore | 
| The seagulls of Seattle | 
| Wheeled and made their caw | 
| I climbed a metal staircase | 
| Searching for a better view | 
| Puget Sound below me | 
| Grey, not really blue | 
| And looking west I raised you up | 
| All sleepy from your bed | 
| You were putting on the coffee pot | 
| Brushing bad dreams from your head | 
| I turned, then, from the harbor | 
| And wheeled back into town | 
| To meet my boon companions | 
| And join with them in sound | 
| Upon the lonely stage, I trod | 
| The room all dark and dim | 
| And every song I sang that night | 
| To my love was a hymn | 
| I was walking by the water | 
| Wondering what I was there for | 
| The seagulls of Seattle | 
| Were calling, evermore |