Master Phruby

There’s no earthly way of knowing Which direction we are going There’s no knowing where we’re rowing Or which way the river’s flowing Is it raining? Is it snowing? Is a hurricane a-blowing? Not a speck of light is showing So the danger must be growing Are the fires of hell a-glowing? Is the grisly reaper mowing? Yes, the danger must be growing ‘Cause the rowers keep on rowing And they’re certainly not showing Any signs that they are slowing!