| The Dutchman’s not the kind of man | 
| To keep his thumb jammed in the dam | 
| That holds his dreams in, | 
| But that’s a secret that only Margaret knows. | 
| When Amsterdam is golden in the morning, | 
| Margaret brings him breakfast, | 
| 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 to the banks of the ocean | 
| Where the walls rise above the Zuider Zee. | 
| 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 sewed there. | 
| Sometimes he thinks he’s still in Rotterdam. | 
| He watches the tug-boats down canals | 
| And calls out to them when he thinks he knows the Captain. | 
| Till Margaret comes | 
| To take him home again | 
| Through unforgiving streets that trip him, though she holds his arm, | 
| Sometimes he thinks he’s alone and he calls her name. | 
| Let us go to 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 windmills whirl the winter in She winds his muffler tighter | 
| And 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 dark. | 
| The Dutchman falls asleep and Margaret blows the candle out. | 
| Let us go to 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. |