The men sing their shanties

Unaware of the looming monster

By the time the lookout can issue the warning

The beast is already too close

Through the howling wind

And washing-machine waves

The shanties give way to shouts

Frantic sailors fighting for their lives

As quick as it came

The storm passes on

Having wiped the surface clean

Those who were singing, now sinking

And as the waves return to the sea,

So the words give way to silence.