Joan Sprung's exquisite song "Harbors of Home" instantly springs to mind - I don't sing it, so don't know the words by heart, but here's the bits I can remember:

Chorus:
The sun in the morning used to call me to the day
And the wind on the sea used to blow my cares away
But I'll nevermore go down to watch the boats come in the bay
Watch the boats from the harbors of home

It seems like it was yesterday I heard the church bells toll
And the time it goes so slowly as the hours slowly roll
They tell me passing days will surely heal a wounded soul
But my tears would fill the harbors of home...

The Ocean gives us fish, and the fish it buys our bread.
Strike a bargain with the Devil so that all of us are fed.
And nothing's given free, and our bonny boys are dead.
Oh our young men from the Harbors of Home.

It's the title cut on a Bok, Muir and Trickett album, but I don't have the words handy to get them right.