![when the waves turn the minutes to hours when the waves turn the minutes to hours](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/z3SoAUDNvZQ/maxresdefault.jpg)
In the head of a kid on the shores of Lake Erie. General CommentThis is the most magical of the Lightfoot songs I grew up with in the '70s (and they were all pretty magical to me at the time). Superior, they said, never gives up her dead The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreamsĪnd the iron boats go as the mariners all know Of the wives and the sons and the daughters They might have split up or they might have capsizedĪnd all that remains is the faces and the names If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
![when the waves turn the minutes to hours when the waves turn the minutes to hours](https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aDFiv4QYCg0/U9wXQYmmGXI/AAAAAAAACi4/nUY8EY3xssE/s1600/IMG_1910.jpg)
When the waves turn the minutes to hours? The captain wired in he had water comin' inĪnd later that night when his lights went outta sightĭoes any one know where the love of God goes When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'Īt seven PM, a main hatchway caved in, he said The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait T'was the witch of November come stealin' The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale soundĪnd every man knew, as the captain did too When they left fully loaded for ClevelandĪnd later that night when the ship's bell rangĬould it be the north wind they'd been feelin'? With a crew and good captain well seasonedĬoncluding some terms with a couple of steel firms The ship was the pride of the American sideĪs the big freighters go, it was bigger than most That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down