Testo di Cape Horn

It was like riding a cork over a waterfall, sir And wind is not the name for what blows in your face It's something made of iron Swings at you from the west Never changing day in and day out With seas as high as the neigh-mast We had life-lines rigged everywhere, sir And there were still sixteen men washed overboard Cold? Three men froze in the yards Frozen stiff, sir Couldn't get them down without cutting their fingers loose from the shrouds I was lucky