The Reaper Man’s Wager | Dark Doom Folk Ballad

A dark doom-folk ballad of storms, wagers, and the price of defiance at sea. Sung like a warning passed down in the hull’s echo, where some debts are always collected.

Lyrics

We sighted the squall hard-drawn on the rim,
Old hands read trouble in the color of the sky.
We reefed down the sails, turned heels from him,
Let canvas whisper low as we fly.
Vanderdecken laughed at the rising water,
Wouldn’t bear away, wouldn’t yield the run.
She knew this game, bore off a quarter,
While the storm closed fast, matched us one for one.

Curse you, Reaper Man, we’ll deny your due!
You won’t have our breath or the work we’ve done.
Curse you, Reaper Man, we’re breaking through,
We wagered this race could still be won.
We’re sailing on past your toll tonight,
We’re sailing on past your toll tonight.

She rolled to port, we hauled her back,
Hands raw as prayer on the breaking line.
Off the Cape of Good Hope skies turned black,
The wind cut sharp, we tasted brine.
The deck began to list as the cold came down:
We leaned into the rope till our shoulders bled.
She fought to stay true, but the storm gained ground,
We were almost past the cape, not yet dead.

Curse you, Reaper Man, we’ll deny your due!
You won’t have our breath or the work we’ve done.
Curse you, Reaper Man, we’re breaking through,
We wagered this race could still be won.
We’re sailing on past your toll tonight,
We’re sailing on past your toll tonight.

We cut the spare, wouldn’t let her roll,
She fought hard, our chance long gone.
Someone laughed like he’d paid his toll,
Someone swore we’d yet see dawn.
Then the mainmast split, clean thunder-cracking,
Louder than wave or the fear we knew.
When her keel cracked, there was no mistaking:
The sea was taking what it had pursued.

Curse you, Reaper Man, we'll defy your due!
You’ll take our breath and the work we’ve done.
Curse you, Reaper Man, you’re breaking through,
We wagered, but this race cannot be won.
We’re sailing to pay our toll tonight,
We’re sailing to pay our toll tonight.

She’s going down bough-first, hauled under by waves,
The sea bares its teeth in a white-knuckle grin.
Lanterns failed as the captain laughed, depraved,
Black water climbs where the seams give in.
She bore her name long before that night,
Our cursed pride sealed by death’s claim.
What followed bound her beyond all sight,
The Flying Dutchman, damned by name.

Curse you, Reaper Man, we’ll pay our due!
You’ve taken our breath, our work undone.
Curse you, Reaper Man, we’re a broken crew.
We lost our wager; it’s a race you won.
We’re sailing to gather your toll tonight,
We’re sailing to gather your toll tonight.

#doomfolk #darkfolk #fantasymusic #flyingdutchman