Who follows the piper on the grayest of days?
When far off, the wind carries the notes that he plays
Calling those orphaned, forsaken, or lost amid tides,
Those who've been shunned, disparaged, or lied.
Lonesome notes drift then swell in their veins
In soft bleeding colors that haven't a name
An ancient but tragic story is told.
For those willing to follow, a promise unfolds.
What have they to lose in the gray spray of mist?
Where now the sinners and sailors both coexist?
So they follow the piper across moor and sea
Trusting, and trading their heart for whatever will be.
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