Besedila: Soundtrack Artists. Autumn/ Finale.

HARTLEY
Autumn
Shall we all meet in the Autumn?
Golden and glowing by Autumn
Shae we still be best of friends?
Best of friends...

All through each languorous season
We ebb and flow
Romance, defying all reason
Will come, then go

Still, perhaps this Autumn
Love won't retreat in the Autumn
ALl that we have won't be past
...Won't be past

Let breezes blow
And turn cold
As we continue growing old
This Autumn
Love newly found
May yet last

MRS. CARDOZA
So what do you say, gentlemen? I happen to play an excellent
game of auction bridge. May I join you?

THE MAJOR
Where's your sense of occasion, madam?
I understand you've just lost your husband.

MRS. CARDOZA
Yes. But not at cards.

FLEET
Ahead we plow
Into the darkening night
Can't see the bow
How then the search
With only starlight?...

FLEET & PERSONNEL PASSENGERS
No moon Autumn
No wind Shall we all meet in the
Nothing to spy things Autumn?
By Golden and glowing, by
No wave Autumn
No swell Shall we still be best of friends
No line where sea Best of friends?
Meets sky Best of friends...No wind

FLEET, PERSONNEL, PASSENGERS
Stillness, darkness
Can't see a thing, says I
No reflection
Not a shadow
Not a glint of light
Meets the eye

PASSENGERS FLEET, PERSONNEL

And we go sailing
See how calm it is
Sailing
Smooth as polished glass
Ever westward
Ah, the open sea On the sea, we go...
Feel the bite in the air
Sailing
Ah, the open sea
Sailing
Smooth as polished glass

ALL
Ever on go we...

FLEET
No moon
No wind...

FLEET & PASSENGERS
No moon
No wind

FLEET & PASSENGERS BRIDE
No moon The night was alive
No wind With a thousand voices...

No moon Night was alive
No wind With a thousand voices

BARRETT
No moon The screws are
Turning
No wind At eighty-one
No moon The screws are turning
Turning
No wind At eighty-one

FLEET&
PASSENGERS BRIDE BARRETT ANDREWS
No moon The night The screws At once a poem
Was alive Were turning And the
Perfection
No wind With a At eighty-one Of physical
Thousand Engineering
Voices The screws
No moon Were turning
No wind At eighty-one

ALL
No moon
No wind

FLEET
Dear mother of God-
Iceberg right ahead!