When the Beautiful set sail,
Back in nineteen seventy,
She was wtate of the art,
The flagship of our navy.
But the salt sea took its otll
And the rust began to show,
And with a heavy heart
We took her to the breaker's yard.
I thought I heard her call,
Maybe I heard nothing at all.
I thought I heard her call
From the wreck of the Beautiful.
But like the fattened cow
Can smell the butcher's knife,
She knew where she was bound:
A sad end to a proud life.
That's when I heard her cry
And the waves rose five miles high,
And the men who did not drown
Watched as the Beautiful went down.
I thought I heard her call,
Maybe I heard nothing at all.
I thought I heard her call
From the wreck of the Beautiful.
From the wreck of the Beautiful.
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