When August winds are turning,
The fishing boats set out upon the sea,
I watch 'til they sail out of sight,
The winter follows soon,
I watch them drawn into the night,
Beneath the August moon.
No one knows I come here,
Some things I don't share,
I can't explain the reasons why,
It moves me close to tears,
Or something in the season's change,
Will find me wandering here.
And in my public moments,
I hear the things I say but they're not me,
Perhaps I'll know before I die,
Admit that there's a reason why,
I count the boats returning to the sea,
I count the boats returning to the sea.
And in my private moments,
I drop the mask that I've been forced to wear,
But no one knows this secret me,
Where albeit unconsciously,
I count the boats returning from the sea,
I count the boats returning from the sea.
The Last Ship
- The Last Ship
- Dead Man's Boots
- And Yet
- August Winds
- Language Of Birds
- Practical Arrangement
- The Night The Pugilist Le..
- Ballad Of The Great Easte..
- What Have We Got? (Sting ..
- I Love Her But She Loves ..
- So To Speak (Sting & Beck..
- The Last Ship (Reprise)