|
Oh, I'm sailin' away my own true love |
|
I'm sailin' away in the morning |
|
Is there something I can send you from across the sea |
|
From the place that I'll be landing? |
|
No, there's nothin' you can send me, my own true love |
|
There's nothin' I'm wishin' to be ownin' |
|
Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled |
|
From across that lonesome ocean |
|
Oh, but I just thought you might want something fine |
|
Made of silver or of golden |
|
Either from the mountains of Madrid |
|
Or from the coast of Barcelona |
|
Oh, if I had the stars from the darkest night |
|
And the diamonds from the deepest ocean |
|
I'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss |
|
For that's all I'm wishin' to be ownin' |
|
That I might be gone a long [Incomprehensible] time |
|
And it's only that I'm askin' |
|
Is there something that I can send 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 |
|
The same thing I would want today |
|
I would want again tomorrow |
|
Oh, I got a letter on a lonesome day |
|
It was from her ship a-sailin' |
|
Saying, I don't know when I'll be comin' back again |
|
It depends on how I'm a-feelin' |
|
If you, my love, must think that-a-way |
|
I'm sure your mind is roamin' |
|
I'm sure you thoughts are not with me |
|
But with the country to where you're goin' |
|
So take heed, take heed of the western winds |
|
Take heed of the stormy weather |
|
And yes, there's something you can send back to me |
|
Spanish boots of Spanish leather |
