|
Well I'm sailin away my own true love. |
|
I'm sailin' away in the mornin' |
|
Is there something I can send you from across the sea, |
|
From the place where I'll be landin'? |
|
No, there's nothing you can bring me my own true love. |
|
There's nothing I wish to be ownin'. |
|
Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled |
|
from across that lonesome ocean. |
|
Well I just though you might want something fine |
|
made of silver or of golden |
|
either from the mountains of Madrid |
|
or the coast of Barcelona. |
|
If I had the stars from the darkest night |
|
and the diamonds from the deepest ocean, |
|
I'd foresake them all for your sweet kiss, |
|
for that's all I'm wishin' to be ownin' |
|
That I might be gone a long old time, |
|
and it's only that I'm askin'. |
|
Is there something I can give you to remember me by, |
|
To make your time more easy passin'? |
|
Oh how can, how can you ask me again? |
|
It only brings me sorrow. |
|
For the same thing that I want from you today |
|
I would want again tomorrow. |
|
Well I got a letter on a lonesome day. |
|
It was from her ship a'sailin'. |
|
Sayin' "I don't know when I'll be comin' back again. |
|
It depends on how I'm feelin'." |
|
Well if you my love must think that a'way |
|
I'm sure your mind is a'roamin'. |
|
I'm sure your heart is not with me |
|
but with the country where you're goin'. |
|
So take heed, take heed of the Western wind. |
|
Take heed of the stormy weather. |
|
And yes, there's something you can send back to me; |
|
SPANISH BOOTS OF SPANISH LEATHER. |
