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As the conversation of the night dwindles and the ale takes its effects, Ceely's mind keeps turning to an old shanty. She, like so many sailors before her, knew the words by heart, and she felt compelled to sing it. Her voice clear and melodious as she does.

Old Storm Along is dead and gone,
Ay! ay! ay! Mr. Storm Along!
Old Storm Along is dead and gone,
Ay! ay! ay! Mr. Storm Along!

When Stormy died, I dug his grave,
Ay! ay! ay! Mr. Storm Along!
When Stormy died, I dug his grave,
Ay! ay! ay! Mr. Storm Along!

I dug his grave with a silver spade,
I hove him up with a metal crane,
And lowered him down with a golden chain Old Storm Along is dead and gone

Why this song came to mind she didn't know but at it's end, she stood and headed up the stairs for the night.