It was Blue Bird of Hull
it was Blue Bird, a brig
that with tied down sails endured
a blizzardy Soten with ice covered mast
on Christmas eve seventy-two
"Tie the Swede to the rudder, he can steer through the storm."
howled the captain: "All right boys, take o'er!"
And Karl Stranne from Smögen
was tied to the rudder
on Blue Bird that was destined to sink.
Saw Hållö's lighthouse afar
but from snowfall and splash
he stood half blind.
Still held the ship steady.
And in lee there was Smögen,
his home where his mother
just received his letter from Middlesbrough.
"Well, what say you, Karl? Will she make it?" "No, captain!
Light the flares, for it ends here.
We have Hållö of starboard, and waves are breaking right ahead."
Lower the anchors, ready the boats!"
But she rode not the waves
and had a few ruptures
which took the boat they had readied
"I believe", said Karl Stranne, "That my father set sail
to greet us, I trust my father!"
"Ready the boats! Ready the boats!" "It is father! It is us!
It's my father from Smögen, ahoy!"
"Ready the boats!", he cried out
everyone, they're here
Jump off, you'll be saved!"
It was Stranne the elder.
A viking, an eagle.
Who on Christmas eve seventy-two
took his pure moonshine
from the corner case
to give the shipwrecked men a drink
"What was the name of the ship?"
he asked, and poured
nine shots into pointy glasses
"The brig Blue Bird."
The tenth glass he took
and smashed it against the floor
"Was that Blue Bird, captain? The brig Blue Bird of Hull?
God in the skies, then where's my son?
Where's the boy, captain, for our savior's sake?"
The men in the corner went dead silent.
The old man Stranne
slowly took off his sou'wester
"Spare his mother, captain, this eve.
Don't mention the brig that was wrecked.
Please, don't mention Blue Bird of Hull."
And the captain stood up
he was pale, he was worn
the storm wailed, one barely heard his words
when he with shivering voice told his host:
"Karl was tied and forgotten on-board."