This document contains the lyrics to a song about lost boys calling out from beneath the waves of a dead calm sea. The song recalls memories of a father who went off to war and never returned, leaving his children behind without taking them fishing as promised. Even now as an adult, the singer can still hear the lost boys calling and feels the child within when seabirds cry, holding onto childhood memories of their father.
This document contains the lyrics to a song about lost boys calling out from beneath the waves of a dead calm sea. The song recalls memories of a father who went off to war and never returned, leaving his children behind without taking them fishing as promised. Even now as an adult, the singer can still hear the lost boys calling and feels the child within when seabirds cry, holding onto childhood memories of their father.
This document contains the lyrics to a song about lost boys calling out from beneath the waves of a dead calm sea. The song recalls memories of a father who went off to war and never returned, leaving his children behind without taking them fishing as promised. Even now as an adult, the singer can still hear the lost boys calling and feels the child within when seabirds cry, holding onto childhood memories of their father.
I would not leave you here alone G g7 C7 F In this dead calm beneath the waves F a7/G F#dim7 I can still hear those lost boys calling G F/G G
You could not speak, you were afraid C d/C
To take the risk of being left again G g7 C7 F And so you tipped your hat and waved and then F C a/F# You turned back up the gangway of that steel tomb again C/G d/C G
And in Mott street in July C e7 F
When I hear those seabirds cry d7 d/C G I hold the child, the child in the man a Fdim7 C/G The child that we leave behind d7 F/G G C
The spotlight fades, the boys disband
The final notes lie mute upon the sand And in the silence of the grave I can still hear those lost boys calling
We left them there when they were young
The men were gone until the west was won And now there's nothing left but time to kill You never took us fishin' dad and now you never will
And in Mott street in July
When I hear those seabirds cry I hold the child, the child in the man The child that we leave behind