She sits all alone on a prayer

Watching the sea and the sky

Wonders if his heart and soul

Are trapped in a soft butterfly

He once called her his baby

Promised some day he’d be back

But time and fate are can be fickle

Aye, ‘tis a cold and hard fact

In vane…a candle she burns

On the hill o’er the roiled sea

Like her very last beacon of hope

Of what will or won’t be

The young maiden sings a sea chanti

Of a sailor’s safe port in a storm

He once told her she was his safe port

Alone now she weeps so forlorn

Other young suitors still court her

And she smiles in a delightful way

Nay…no man will win her virgin heart

It sailed on a vessel that long ago day…