'Keeper of the Light' written by Warren Nelson, recorded live at Big Top Chautauqua in Bayfield, WI and featured on the CD 'Riding the Wind'.
Here is a link to where you can get a copy of the CD: [ Ссылка ]

I only own the CD.
Here are the words to the song as best as I could understand them:

I'm the keeper of the light on Michigan Island,
a candle in the night for the steamboat trade,
with an eye on the wick and a whistle to the ships
that are bound for the bay or running for a lee!

I'm the keeper of the light on Michigan Island,
a candle in the night for the steamboat trade,
with an eye on the wick and a whistle to the ships
that are bound for the bay or running for a lee!

Father took the oath of office
and we packed our family.
We sailed with open water
for a season of the keeper's duty.
We lived by regulation:
By ten AM each day
We cleaned the lamps and lanterns that
would light ships on their way.

We'd rub the brass and shine the brass
and then we polished brass.
We wound the clock that turns the light
and then we scrubbed the tower.
We fished and tended flower beds
and sang and worked some more,
and always welcomed travelers
landin' on our shore.

I'm the keeper of the light on Long Island,
a candle in the night for the steamboat trade,
with an eye on the wick and a whistle to the ships
that are bound for the bay or running for a lee.

Sand Island Light was a Brownstone tower
and the light most westerly,
Lit in 1881
for the south shore steamer lane.
Down bound from the head of the lake
the mariners could not see
the island shoals that could run them aground,
They couldn't see the light at Raspberry!

One dark night its keeper Luick rose to trim the light,
September Second, nineteen-five,
it'd stormed and blown all night,
Through his glass he spied the Sevona
strike a reef and break
Seventeen made the shore,
seven swallowed by the lake!

I'm the keeper of the light on Sand Island,
a candle in the night for the steamboat trade,
with an eye on the wick and a whistle to the ships
that are bound for the bay or running for a lee.

Back to Outer Island station we came
with provisions and the mail.
At four'o'clock the wind commenced,
it blew a living gale.
We lit the lamp at sunset,
afraid the clock would break,
then anew it blew a hurricane,
the tower began to shake!

It was damp in the lamp and freezing,
the oil all congealed,
we were scrubbin'; with brine on the lantern glass
to remove the angry sea.
Our dock was driven to the boulders,
to talk we had to shout,
so splendid was Superior's fury
twenty-five miles out!

I'm the keeper of the light on Outer Island,
a candle in the night for the steamboat trade,
with an eye on the wick and a whistle to the ships
that are bound for the bay or running for a lee.

Ninety-six steps of old Michigan Tower,
the first Apostle Light,
with the station at Chequamegon (shəq-WAH-mə-gn)
we watch the South Channel.
But the strongest light is the youngest
and the turning point on the lake,
you can see the Devil's beam 18 miles in your wake!

We lived in an era that time has past,
as keepers we were friends,
Now whose gonna fill my lamp tonight,
shine my Fresnel lens?
If we could gather at Raspberry
and on tenders we would go,
I’d hear the steamers come rounding then
the long fog whistle blow!

I'm the keeper of the light on Raspberry Island,
a candle in the night for the steamboat trade,
with an eye on the wick and a whistle to the ships
that are bound for the bay or running for a lee.

I'm the keeper of the light on Raspberry Island,
a candle in the night for the steamboat trade,
with an eye on the wick and a whistle to the ships
that are bound for the bay
bound for the bay
or running for a lee!

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