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