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Ways of Man Are Passing Strange (Gordon Bok) The ways of man are passing strange He buys his freedom and he counts his change Then he lets the wind his days arrange And he calls the tide his master Oh the days, oh the days Oh the fine long summer days The fish come rolling in the bays And he swore he'd never leave me But the days grow short and the year gets old And the fish won't stay where the water's cold And if they're going to fill the hold They've got to go offshore to find them So they go outside on the raving deep And they pray the Lord their soul to keep But the waves will roll them all to sleep And the tide will be their keeper Oh the tide, oh the tide Oh you dark and you bitter tide If I can't have him by my side I guess I have to leave him I gave you one, I gave you two The best that rotten old boat could do You wouldn't be happy till I gave you three But I'll be damned if you'll get me Oh the tide, oh the tide, Oh you dark and you bitter tide If I can't have him by my side The water's welcome to him Oh Lord I know that the day will come When one less boat comes slogging home I don't mind knowing that he'll be the one But I can't spend my whole life praying I gave you one, I gave you two The best that poor old boat could do You'd have it all before you're through Well I've got no more to give you Copyright Folk-Legacy Records, Inc. sung by Bok, Trickett, and Muir on a Folk Legacy record of the same name. SOF
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!