Love will come, and love will go, as the seas roll on forever,
and lost love has the everlasting flow of a never-ending river.
And it's not an easy reckoning, but sometimes I have the notion,
that womankind, and her heart and mind, sails on a restless ocean.

A tall ship came from windward away, on a grey Atlantic morning.
She showed no lights or colors, in the hour before the dawning,
on a full rig run to the rising sun, she reached our starboard quarter.
And I'll ne'er forget the name she bore, she was called The Neptune's Daughter.

Her sails were white as ivory, and her rigging sang like harp-strings.
Her spars were black as ebony, and her wheel spun free of lashings.
Her cloak of grey was the spindrift spray, as she split the waves asunder.
I can see her now as she crossed our bow, as we gazed in silent wonder.

Her course was set by destiny, and no helmsman's hand could change her.
We hailed her and we signalled, “you are standing into danger”.
But she left us free on the westerly, and I watched her pale sail sinking,
and if only I was upon her deck, was all that I was thinking.

Love will come, and love will go, as the years roll on forever.
Lost love has the everlasting flow of a never-ending river.
And it's not an easy reckoning, but sometimes I have the notion,
that womankind, and her heart and mind, is a tall ship on the ocean.