Andrea Gail


On the Banks in November is no place to be,
But don't tell that to the men that still work the sea.

Battling waves that were ten stories high,
Can't even recall the last time spent dry.

Rain hits the skin so hard it feels like hail.
But noone's on the deck of the Andrea Gail.

Twenty tons in the hold and six weary crew,
All wishing they were home, and praying to make through.

All rules on land are thrown out on the sea,
Man's fate rest alone on Neptune's Mercy.
Six men were lost to a Nor'Easter gale.
When the Banks claimed the swordboat Andrea Gail.

Never forget. Andrea Gail. Never forget. Andrea Gail.