Sea Fever
Eleanor Chaffee / Friedrich Silcher
When the wind is blowing out of the singing south
Then would I be going, sea sprayed upon my mouth
When the tide is drifting over the silver sand
My heart's sails are lifting, set for another land
When the stars are staring down from a cloudless sky
Then would I be faring out where the gray gulls cry
Out where the gray gulls cry
Gray gulls cry