Oh,
the time will come up when the winds will stop
and the breeze will cease to be a-breathing.
Like the stillness in the wind before the hurricane begins,
the hour that the ship comes in.
Then the seas will split and the ships will hit
and the sands on the shoreline will be shaking.
And the tide will sound and the waves will pound.
The morning will be a-breaking.
All the fishes will laugh as they swim out of the pad.
The seagulls will be a-smiling.
And the rocks on the sand will proudly
stand the hour that the ship comes in.
And the sounds that are used for to get the ship
infused will not be understood as they're spoken.
And the chains of the sea will have busted in the
night and be buried on the bottom of the ocean.
A song will lift as the mainsail shifts
and the boat drifts onto the shoreline.
And the sun will respect every face on the deck,
the hour that the ship comes in.
And the sands will roll out a bar of gold.
The weary toes to be a-touching.
And the ship's wise men will remind you once
again the whole wide world is a-watching.
All the foes will arise with the sleep still in their eyes.
They'll jerk from their beds and think they're dreaming.
But they'll pinch themselves and squeal
and they'll know that it's for real,
the hour that the ship comes in.
And they'll raise their hands,
saying we'll meet all your demands.
We'll shout from the louds,
your days are numbered.
And like Pharaoh's pride,
they'll be grounded in the tide.
Like Goliath, they'll be a-conquered.