Cape Horn

It was like riding a port over a waterfall, sir

And wind is not the name for what blows in your face

It's something made of iron

Swings at you from the west

Never changin' day in and day out

With seas as high as the main mast

We had lifelines rigged everywhere, sir

And there were still 16 men washed over board

Cold, three men froze in the yards, frozen stiff, sir

Couldn't get them down without cutting their fingers

Loose from the shrouds, I was lucky