| Don’t mind the rain, or the rolling sea
|
| The weary nights never would read me
|
| But the hardest time in a sailor’s day
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| Is to watch the sun as it dies away
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| Here’s one more day
|
| On the Grey Funnel Line
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| The finest ship that sails the sea
|
| Is still a prison for the likes of me
|
| But give me wings like Noah’s dove
|
| Now I fly up harbor to the girl I love
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| Here’s one more day
|
| On the Grey Funnel Line
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| Each time I gaze behind the screws
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| I wish I had Saint Peter’s shoes
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| Then I’d dance on down that silvery lane
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| And rest in my true love’s arms again
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| Here’s one more day
|
| On the Grey Funnel Line
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| Oh lord, if dreams were only real
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| Then I feel my hands on that wooden wheel
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| And with all my heart, I turn around
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| And tell the boys that we’re homeward bound
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| Here’s one more day
|
| On the Grey Funnel Line
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| I’ll pass the time like summer’s sheen
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| Until blue waters turn into green
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| Then I’ll dance on down that walk ashore
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| And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more
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| Here’s one more day
|
| On the Grey Funnel Line |