[HARTLEY]
Autumn
Shall we all meet in the autumn?
Golden and glowing by autumn
Shall 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

[CARDOZA, spoken]
So what do you say, gentlemen? I happen to play an excellent
game of auction bridge. May I join you?
[THE MAJOR, spoken]
Where's your sense of occasion, madam?
I understand you've just lost your husband.

[MRS. CARDOZA, spoken]
Yes. But not at cards.

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

[FLEET, IDA, CAROLINE, MCGOWAN & SHIP'S PERSONAL, OTHER 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
Meets sky Best of friends...

[ALL]
Stillness, darkness
Can't see a thing, says I
No reflection
Not a shadow
Not a glint of light
Meets the eye
[FLEET, IDA, CAROLINE, MCGOWAN & SHIP'S PERSONAL, OTHER PASSENGERS]
See how calm it is And we go sailing
Smooth as polished glass Sailing
Ah, the open sea Ever westward
Feel the bite in the air On the sea
Ah, the open sea We go sailing
Smooth as polished glass Sailing

[ALL]
Ever on
Go we...

[FLEET]
No moon
No wind...

[FLEET & CHORUS]
No moon
No wind

[FLEET & CHORUS, BRIDE, BARRETT, ANDREWS]
No moon The night was alive
No wind With a thousand voices

No moon Night was alive
No wind With a thousand voices
No moon The screws were turning
No wind At eighty-one
No moon The screws were turning
No wind At eighty-one
No moon The night was alive The screws were turning
No wind With a thousand voices At eighty-one

No moon Night was alive The screws were turning At once a poem
And the perfection
No wind With a thousand voices At eighty-one Of physical engineering

[ALL]
No moon!
No wind!

[FLEET, spoken]
Dear mother of God -
Iceberg, right ahead!