I wrote you every day, my dear,
but never a letter have I received,
I send you trinkets of gold and ambrosia,
But not once have you sent for me.
I understand being as sea is hard,
And to be a man of war is... something,
But I am the wife of a sailor,
That must count for something.
I know those waters get so lonely,
The tides offer no embrace,
I promise when you return,
To wear your favourite lace.
But for now, my love, I beg of you,
To write me at least one letter,
Our son is growing up so fast,
He's walking so much better.
You're missing so much on that ship,
But you have a job to do,
I just wish this job wasn't so deadly,
And that it had never taken you.
I got the letter today, sweet king,
With your hat and a apology,
Those even men found your ship,
Then they took you away from me.
I was told you would make it home,
But in a box and flag,
We will dance one more time, my love,
We'll dance the suicide jag.
