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The Wreckers

This song is by Colin Masson and appears on the album The Southern Cross (2011).

White horses running high
The zeros angry at the sky
The rudder sheared she takes the furry of the storm
The rocky shore is throwing now

The stricken vessel lurches like a hind that has been brought to pain
The storm a fearsome hunter that has bloodied out the light of day
The trap is sprung the teeth are bared the granite tears the keel away
The long boats down and broken and the rocky coast will have its way

On the cliffs they stand and wait (wait) (wait) (wait)
For the waters to a bait (a bait) (a bait) (a bait)
They bless the storm and set to sharpening their knives (their knives) (their knives)
They leave the rest to wind and fate (fate) (fate) (fate)

A great ship of the ocean laid in high upon a distant mane
A proud and gordy galleon full of treasure for the king of Spain
But storms care not for silver boat, or greed, or slavering or pain
Off course and lost all hands are drowned the Spaniards loose the wreckers gain

And God have mercy on the souls

Oh mother Mary be to me
And those that fair upon the sea
The blood and danger of the Spanish main
The stranger in a far country

Oh Lord eternal set me free
(Lord eternal set me free)
This is not were I want to be
(Stranger in a far country)
I pray for life against our savage enemies on land, and caring sea

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