Respectable people take to your beds For the night it is dark and it's stormy Turn your head to the wall and hear nothing at all For the cart is starting its journey Out of the town up to the downs Along the cliff path it is going Twelve men and a cart out in the dark Best not to ask where they're going
Chorus: On a stormy night with a false light The wreckers are down mid rock and mid foam Pity the sailor who's on the salt sea Thinking he's not far from home
Laden low in the sea swell Beckoned on by the light she knows well Unaware of the rocks until it's too late And another ship moves to her fate Then it's time to work fast busy at last Gathering all that reaches the shore If bodies arrive making sure none survive The silenced tongue can tell no tales
The wreckers work hard all through the dark night Long ago they extinguished that treacherous light When dawn comes around more people are found Gathering flotsam and jetsam Then it's back down the path, homeward at last There to divide the spoils of the night Of one thing be sure naught will be said Of twelve tired men and twelve empty beds
The squire's wife wears a new dress of red With no trace of salt or those who are dead The innkeeper's serving the finest of rum And the squire is drinking strong brandy Life will go on there's nothing to fear Nothing to see and nothing to hear Respectable people who turn to the wall Need have no shame, no guilt at all E-Mail sent. -Joe Offer-