So many wonderful songs ... thank you! They made me think of this one, which is, I think, both sea-yearning and its denial:

"Then come with me" you say, "to where the Southern Cross
Rides high upon your shoulder."
"Come with me!" you cry,
"Each day you tend this lock, you're one day older,
While your blood runs colder."
But that anchor chain's a fetter
And with it you are tethered to the foam,
And I wouldn't trade your life for one hour of home.

- Stan Rogers, "The Lock-Keeper"