|
The pale moon rose in its glory |
|
Out on the Western town |
|
She told a sad, sad story |
|
Of the great ship that went down |
|
It was the fourteenth day of April |
|
Over the waves she rode |
|
Sailing into tomorrow |
|
To a golden age foretold |
|
The night was black with starlight |
|
The seas were sharp and clear |
|
Moving through the shadows |
|
The promised hour was near |
|
Lights were holding steady |
|
Gliding over the foam |
|
All the lords and ladies |
|
Heading for their eternal home |
|
The chandeliers were swaying |
|
From the balustrades above |
|
The orchestra was playing |
|
Songs of faded love |
|
The watchman, he lay dreaming |
|
As the ballroom dancers twirled |
|
He dreamed the Titanic was sinking |
|
Into the underworld |
|
Leo took his sketchbook |
|
He was often so inclined |
|
He closed his eyes and painted |
|
The scenery in his mind |
|
Cupid struck his bosom |
|
And broke it with a snap |
|
The closest woman to him |
|
He fell into her lap |
|
He heard a loud commotion |
|
Something sounded wrong |
|
His inner spirit was saying |
|
That he couldn't stand here long |
|
He staggered to the quarterdeck |
|
No time now to sleep |
|
Water on the quarterdeck |
|
Already three foot deep |
|
Smokestack was leaning sideways |
|
Heavy feet began to pound |
|
He walked into the whirlwind |
|
Sky splitting all around |
|
The ship was going under |
|
The universe had opened wide |
|
The roll was called up yonder |
|
The angels turned aside |
|
Lights down in the hallway |
|
Flickering dim and dull |
|
Dead bodies already floating |
|
In the double bottom hull |
|
The engines then exploded |
|
Propellers they failed to start |
|
The boilers overloaded |
|
The ship's bow split apart |
|
Passengers were flying |
|
Backward, forward, far and fast |
|
They mumbled, fumbled, and tumbled |
|
Each one more weary than the last |
|
The veil was torn asunder |
|
'Tween the hours of twelve and one |
|
No change, no sudden wonder |
|
Could undo what had been done |
|
The watchman lay there dreaming |
|
At forty five degrees |
|
He dreamed that the Titanic was sinking |
|
Dropping to her knees |
|
Wellington he was sleeping |
|
His bed began to slide |
|
His valiant heart was beating |
|
He pushed the tables aside |
|
Glass of shattered crystal |
|
Lay scattered roundabout |
|
He strapped on both his pistols |
|
How long could he hold out? |
|
His men and his companions |
|
Were nowhere to be seen |
|
In silence there he waited for |
|
Time and space to intervene |
|
The passageway was narrow |
|
There was blackness in the air |
|
He saw every kind of sorrow |
|
Heard voices everywhere |
|
Alarm-bells were ringing |
|
To hold back the swelling tide |
|
Friends and lovers clinging |
|
To each other side by side |
|
Mothers and their daughters |
|
Descending down the stairs |
|
Jumped into the icy waters |
|
Love and pity sent their prayers |
|
The rich man, Mister Astor |
|
Kissed his darling wife |
|
He had no way of knowing |
|
It'd be the last trip of his life |
|
Calvin, Blake and Wilson |
|
Gambled in the dark |
|
Not one of them would ever live to |
|
Tell the tale on the disembark |
|
Brother rose up 'gainst brother |
|
In every circumstance |
|
They fought and slaughtered each other |
|
In a deadly dance |
|
They lowered down the lifeboats |
|
From the sinking wreck |
|
There were traitors, there were turncoats |
|
Broken backs and broken necks |
|
The bishop left his cabin |
|
To help others in need |
|
Turned his eyes up to the heavens |
|
Said, "The poor are yours to feed" |
|
Davey the brothel-keeper |
|
Came out dismissed his girls |
|
Saw the water getting deeper |
|
Saw the changing of his world |
|
Jim Dandy smiled |
|
He never learned to swim |
|
Saw the little crippled child |
|
And he gave his seat to him |
|
He saw the starlight shining |
|
Streaming from the East |
|
Death was on the rampage |
|
But his heart was now at peace |
|
They battened down the hatches |
|
But the hatches wouldn't hold |
|
They drowned upon the staircase |
|
Of brass and polished gold |
|
Leo said to Cleo |
|
I think I'm going mad |
|
But he'd lost his mind already |
|
Whatever mind he had |
|
He tried to block the doorway |
|
To save all those from harm |
|
Blood from an open wound |
|
Pouring down his arm |
|
Petals fell from flowers |
|
'Til all of them were gone |
|
In the long and dreadful hours |
|
The wizard's curse played on |
|
The host was pouring brandy |
|
He was going down slow |
|
He stayed right to the end and he |
|
Was the last to go |
|
There were many, many others |
|
Nameless here forever more |
|
They never sailed the ocean |
|
Or left their homes before |
|
The watchman, he lay dreaming |
|
The damage had been done |
|
He dreamed the Titanic was sinking |
|
And he tried to tell someone |
|
The captain, barely breathing |
|
Kneeling at the wheel |
|
Above him and beneath him |
|
Fifty thousand tons of steel |
|
He looked over at his compass |
|
And he gazed into its face |
|
Needle pointing downward |
|
He knew he'd lost the race |
|
In the dark illumination |
|
He remembered bygone years |
|
He read the Book of Revelation |
|
And he filled his cup with tears |
|
When the Reaper's task had ended |
|
Sixteen hundred had gone to rest |
|
The good, the bad, the rich, the poor |
|
The loveliest and the best |
|
They waited at the landing |
|
And they tried to understand |
|
But there is no understanding |
|
On the judgment of God's hand |
|
The news came over the wires |
|
And struck with deadly force |
|
Love had lost its fires |
|
All things had run their course |
|
The watchman he lay dreaming |
|
Of all the things that can be |
|
He dreamed the Titanic was sinking |
|
Into the deep blue sea |