I tell you now a story true, a tale of three brethren born
Who lived within a lighthouse built upon a spur of stone
Ten miles out to sea, life was brewed with misery

When they tended Terrible Tilly back in 1943

The three men had heard stories from the women who had cried

How their husbands went to build the light, but many of them died
Bodies swallowed by sea, such an awful tragedy
And how that rock was an evil place the living should not be


CHORUS:
And the waves were crashing round them through the belly of the storm

With the water rising on all sides they were praying for the morn
The spirits and the wind were wailing up a ghostly song
As they tended to the light, but kept on wishing for the dawn


Their residence began there in November of the year
And soon they came to know that they had very much to fear

Ghosts would haunt them in their dreams, terror frozen in their screams
While the days were growing darker and the rain came down in streams


It took the three a fortnight to believe that the place was cursed
And with winter fast approaching, they got ready for the worst
With a tempest beating down, would they live or would they drown

And would their souls be trapped forever and their corpses never found

When the devil wants a dance with you, you dance 'til the music stops

But the three went out into the storm and left that cursed rock
Soon they sunk beneath the waves, crushing black became their graves
And the light of Terrible Tilly, it was never lit again