Haul %s the running line,
We make ready by the northern sea,
With storms to weather filling every heart,
And through storm and gale.
The northern sea winds whisper low,
As face the storm we roam,
Through gold to earn we go,
Far from our childhood home.
Each the halyard fast shares a story,
Of fortune to find and more,
The old ship holds their glory,
Now and forevermore.
Through storms to weather we find our way,
By harbor fair we stand,
Though the deck below may stray,
We join heart to heart ...