Oh the breeze is blowin' balmy
  An the sun is in a haze;
There's a cloud jest givin' coolness
  To the laziest of days.
There are crowds upon the lakeside,
  But the fish refuse to bite,
So I'll wait and go a-fishin'
  When the wind gets right.

Now my boat tugs at her anchor,
  Eager now to kiss the spray,
While the little waves are callin'
  Drowsy sailor come away,
There's a harbor for the happy,
  And its sheen is just in sight,
But I won't set sail to get there,
  Till the wind gets right.

That's my trouble, too, I reckon,
  I've been waitin' all too long,
Tho' the days were always
  Still the wind is always wrong.
An' when Gabriel blows his trumpet,
  In the day o' in the night,
I will still be found waitin',
  Till the wind gets right.