To warn of dangers sailors cannot see
beyond the rocks on which it stands alone
the lighthouse sweeps its rays across the sea.

A hundred years and more it’s held the key
to safety, brightly glowing beams that shone
to warn of dangers sailors cannot see.

When sudden storms caught seamen in the lee,
the rocks below were rimmed with drifting bone.
The lighthouse sweeps its rays across the sea.

The bloody foam and shattered decks, debris
lit up by sweeping beams – these horrors shown
to warn of dangers sailors cannot see.

No longer manned, its keeper absentee,
its light controlled by chips of living stone,
the lighthouse sweeps its rays across the sea.

And still it stands upon its lonely quay
and spreads its shining beams, its foghorn’s moan,
to warn of dangers sailors cannot see.
The lighthouse sweeps its rays across the sea.