rising waves of the storm dancing on the edge of the courage of the crew
get back to the shore! I hear called and I'm off and know what to do
a clap, a crash, a dozen ghosts in our silhouettes chilling our bones
rain begins to fall, again sounds the call! and we heave with deep groans
a cloudy darkness swallows the ship with in the folds of the storm and it still rains
the ghosts haunting our silhouettes drift away, a sudden calmness comes and remains
a pillar of light and a vision of the purest blue sky and I'm not sure what to do
the water as untroubled as a breath of relief heaved by tired backs and crew
a masters hand and a kind word to the storm and wind. peace, be still.
awoken the master you slept below, risen having done his fathers will.
what manner of man is this that even the waves and winds obey
what manner of men aught we to be? we have heard him say
we have heard him say "even as I am"
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