Born to the Raging Main

Born to the raging main
From the shore to the ships on the sea
Born to the raging main
It's the place I'm longing to be

Little Lloyd was a boy in the frozen north
Who dreamed of life on the sea
Every day he would wave to the passing ships
Off the shore of his little country

He'd stand on the pier and he'd bellow out
Orders to a make believe crew
Walking tall like a captain on the deck
Little king of the briny blue

Born to the raging main
From the shore to the ships on the sea
Born to the raging main
It's the place I'm longing to be

Every night he would write in his captain's log
Every ship that came and went
He'd record every storm that blew through the port
With his wind speed instruments

He memorized the main shipping routes
That criss-crossed the northern sea
He mastered the compass and maps of the stars
And collected supplies he would need

Born to the raging main
From the shore to the ships on the sea
Born to the raging main
It's the place I'm longing to be

One spring morn, before dawn he sneaked out the door
With a duffle bag filled to the brim
On a rope there did float was a little rowboat
He boarded with a whistle and a grin

The wind blew softly in toward the beach
As morning brought first light
Sea birds circled up above the waves
As his little boat rowed out of sight

Born to the raging main
From the shore to the ships on the sea
Born to the raging main
It's the place I'm longing to be

Old sailors still tell the tale
Of the boy with a map on his knee
Who rode the waves on dark stormy nights
To guide in ships lost out at sea

Born to the raging main
From the shore to the ships on the sea
Born to the raging main
It's the place I'm longing to beI
It's the place I'm longing to be