The Dutchman's not the kind of man
To keep his thumb jammed in the dam that holds his dreams in
That's a secret only Margaret knows
When Amsterdam is golden in the morning
Margaret brings him breakfast and she believes him
He thinks the tulips bloom beneath the snow
He's mad as he can be, but Margaret only sees that sometimes
Sometimes she sees her unborn children in his eyes.
Let us go the banks of the ocean
Where the walls rise above the Zuiderzee
Long ago, I used to be a young man but dear Margaret remembers that for me.
The Dutchman still wears wooden shoes
His cap and coat are patched with the love that Margaret sewn in.
Sometimes he thinks he's still in Rotterdam
He watches tugboats down canals and calls out to them when he thinks he knows the captain
'Til Margaret comes to take him home again
Through the unforgiving streets that trip him though she holds his arm
Sometimes he thinks that he's alone and calls her name.
Windmills whirl the winter in
She winds his muffler tighter they sit in the kitchen
Some tea with whiskey keeps away the dew
He sees her for a moment, calls her name she makes his bed up singing some old love song
She learned it when the tune was very new
He hums a line or two, they hum together in the night
The Dutchman falls asleep and Margaret blows the candle out.