There's a fever on the coast, and it's killing children, We are safer out on the sea where wild horses run, Sea-horses with tails Like if they were whales, Coming and going with the tide.
I'm an old sea dog with a heavy diving gear, Overwhelmed by sadness as the ocean-floor draws near, Above, the north-winds roar, Below, I'm looking for Underwater ruins, for to hide.
Just a dozen fathoms deep is the place where I go Roaming in the twilight with a little boy I know. Would you say I'm insane If you saw the white mane, Me and my grandson on a sea-horse ride.