The Song of the Whale (Eric Bogle) The saddest sound I've ever heard Is the song of the hump-backed whale His moans and sighs and his eerie cries Sing a sad familiar tale For he sighs and blows as if he knows His race is nearly run And that soon with all of his kind he'll fall Before the whaler's gun. For every living thing on earth Nature made a space Each a living strand of a fragile plan That can never be replaced And not from need, but from wanton greed Man has torn down nature's web With greed possessed he will not rest Till the last of the whales is dead. In my mind's eye I can see them die As the whaler finds his mark Hear the muffled boom of the cruel harpoon As it blasts their lives apart I see the flood of their rich dark blood As it stains the ocean red And that bloody green will not wash clean Till the last of the whales is dead. The saddest sound I've ever heard Is the song of the hump-backed whale His moans and sighs and his eerie cries Sing a sad familiar tale For he sighs and blows as if he knows His race is nearly run And that soon with all of his kind he'll fall Before the whaler's gun. IB oct00
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!