Bound to sail these ugly seas and hear the seagull's call
Doomed to hear the rat-tat-tat of the quarter master's call
The salt wind blows, the slave boss crows making my skin crawl
As i row this cross of mine to the place of the skull.
Hour after hour, rowing on this worn bench
My only crime to do this time was my own common sense
To deny the Son means freedom's won, but I can't deny His name
So I'm chained to this, my blood soaked fist, rowing 'till I am slain.