Old lady with a barrow; life near ending Standing by the harbour wall; warm wishes sending Children on the cold sea swell Not fishers of men Gone to chase away the last herring: Come empty home again. So come all you lovers of the good life On your supermarket run Set a sail of your own devising And be there when the Dutchman comes. Wee girl in a straw hat: from far east warring Sad cargo of an old ship: young bodies whoring Slow ocean hobo ports closed to her crew No hope of immigration keep on passing through. So come all you lovers of the good life Your children playing in the sun Set a sympathetic flag a-flying And be there when the Dutchman comes. Death grinning like a scarecrow Flying Dutchman Seagull pilots flown from nowhere try and touch one As she slips in on the full tide And the harbour-master yells All hands vanished with the captain No one left, the tale to tell. So come all you lovers of the good life Look around you, can you see? Staring ghostly in the mirror It's the Dutchman you will be Floating slowly out to sea In a misty misery.