But I told that kid a hundred times, "Don't take the Lakes for granted
They go from calm to a hundred knots so fast they seem enchanted"
But tonight some red-eyed Wiarton girl lies staring at the wall
And her lover's gone into a white squall

Now it's a thing that us oldtimers know, in a sultry summer calm
There comes a blow from nowhere and it goes off like a bomb
And a sixteen-thousand-tonner can be thrown upon her beam
While the gale takes all before it with a scream
The kid was on the hatches, lying staring at the sky
From where I stood I swear I could see tears fall from his eye
So I hadn't the heart to tell him that he should be on a line
Even on a night so warm and fine

But I told that kid a hundred times, "Don't take the Lakes for granted
They go from calm to a hundred knots so fast they seem enchanted"
But tonight some red-eyed Wiarton girl lies staring at the wall
And her lover's gone into a white squall

When it struck he sat up with a start; I roared to him, "Get down"
But for all that he could hear I could as well not made a sound
So I clung there to the stanchions and I felt my face go pale
As he crawled hand over hand along the rail
Now I could feel her heeling over with the fury of the blow
And I watched the rail go under then, so terrible and slow
Then like some great dog she shook herself and roared upright again
While overside I heard him call me name

But I told that kid a hundred times, "Don't take the Lakes for granted
They go from calm to a hundred knots so fast they seem enchanted"
But tonight some red-eyed Wiarton girl lies staring at the wall
And her lover's gone into a white squall

So it's just my luck to have the watch with nothing else to do
But watch the deadly waters glide as we roll north to the Sault
And wonder when they'll turn again and pitch us to the rail
And whirl off one more youngster in the gale

And I tell these kids a hundred times, "Don't take the Lakes for granted
They go from calm to a hundred knots so fast they seem enchanted"
But tonight some red-eyed Wiarton girl lies staring at the wall
And her lover's gone into a white squall

- Stan Rogers
"White Squall"
From Fresh Water (1984)

* This couplet actually rhymes.