Crack, a littlesound from the mast
Reacting cordially to the touch of the monsoon
On her old wooden structure
A tender embrace he gives
Stretching wide the black canvas
Whispering tales of the brave
The once beautiful and strong
But now lay wrecked at sea bottom
Harboring souls of the deadCaptain Black and his crew
An old map of the sea
To the lost moving island
Resting the rulers of the sea
The great kings of pirates

Whoosh, gentle waves drifting
Rocking us rhythmically
A musical sensation it feels
Like a fine tune of a classical
Conducted live in the open sea
Trumpets, trombones and tubas
Violins, violas and harps
A symphonic sound for the traveling souls
And as the sea guardians work
Attending to Captain White in his cabin
I stand on the deck
Relishing thecold breeze
Watching the moon shiftOn a midnight sail