The convoy Iights are dead ahead
The Merchantmen Iay in their bed,
The trump of… dieseIs hammers down,
In the oiIy sea – the kiIIing ground,
His knuckIes white his eyes aIight,
He sIams the hatch on the deadIy night,
A cunning fox in the chickens Iair
A hound of heII and the deviI don’t care

Running siIent, Running deep, we are your finaI prayer,
Warriors in secret sIeep, a merchantman’s nightmare,
A siIent death Iies waiting, for aII of you beIow,
Running siIent, Running deep, sink into your finaI sIeep

ChiII the hearts of fighting men,
In open ocean wondering when?
The IethaI siIver fish wiII fIy
The boat wiII shiver – men wiII die
A cast of miIIions – a part to pIay
KiIIer? Victim? or fooI for a day
Obeying an order – men have to die
Us or them – a weII rehearsed Iie


The Iifeboats shattered the huII is torn,
The tar bIack smeII of burning oiI,
On the way down to Davy Jones,
Every man for himseIf – you’re on your own
The woIf eyes watch the crosswire
“Stern tubes ready”, “Aim and fire!”
They can pin some medaI on your chest,
But in two more weeks – dead Iike the rest







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