When she steams into the harbor
People don't flock 'round like bees,
For she ain't no grim destroyer,
No dark terror of the seas.
And there ain't a load of romance
To the guy that doesn't know,
In a ship that just saves vessels
When the icy northers blow.
But men that sail the ocean
On a wormy, rotten craft,
When the sea ahead is mountains
With a hell-blowngale abaft,
When the mainmast cracks and topples
And she's lurching in the tough,
Them's the guys that greet the "Cutter"
With the smiles that won't come off.
When the old storm signal's flyin',
Every vessel seeks a lee,
'Cept the "Cutter", which ups anchor
And goes ploughing out to sea.
When the hurricane's a-blown'
From the Banks of old Cape Cod
Oh, the "Cutter", with her searchlight,
Seems the messenger of God.
