Oh, the sailor boy was young and free, with eyes as wide as skies, 
He sailed upon the ocean blue, where dreams and dangers lie. 
But aboard the prow, carved smooth and fair, his heart was swiftly led, 
For he fell in love on the open sea—with his ship’s own figurehead.

Sing low, sing high, to the lady of the prow, 
Her wooden eyes, her ivory smile, they haunt his dreams somehow. 
He swore to love her ‘til the end, through calm or tempest dread, 
A sailor lost to the siren gaze of his ship’s own figurehead.

Her hair was carved in flowing waves, her gaze toward the stars, 
With lips that seemed to whisper tales of lands and distant bars. 
He’d steal away from the weary crew to sit and softly hum, 
And speak to her of all his dreams, of who he might become.

Sing low, sing high, to the lady of the prow, 
Her wooden eyes, her ivory smile, they haunt his dreams somehow. 
He swore to love her ‘til the end, through calm or tempest dread, 
A sailor lost to the siren gaze of his ship’s own figurehead.

The crew, they laughed, and the captain scorned, “The boy has lost his wits! 
To pine for timber on the prow? He’s cracked, I’ll have no fits!” 
But the sailor boy would not relent; he kissed her lips of pine, 
And made a vow to keep her safe from brine and even time.

Through storms and squalls, through cannon fire, her beauty did not fade, 
Her siren’s call, her silent voice, his soul forever stayed. 
And when their ship was split in two on jagged rocks ahead, 
The sailor lad clutched her close, ‘til the sea claimed them instead.

Sing low, sing high, to the lady of the prow, 
Her wooden eyes, her ivory smile, they haunt his dreams somehow. 
He swore to love her ‘til the end, through calm or tempest dread, 
A sailor lost to the siren gaze of his ship’s own figurehead.

Now sailors tell of a ghostly ship that sails the midnight tide, 
With a sailor boy and his lady fair, forever side by side. 
Her wooden arms now soft as flesh, her voice a haunting song, 
And they dance beneath the silver moon, where the lost belong.

Sing low, sing high, to the lovers of the sea, 
A sailor boy and his lady fair, bound for eternity. 
Through stormy waves, through endless night, their love will not be dead, 
A legend carved in the ocean’s heart: the boy and the figurehead.