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[Caroline Lavelle] Oh my love he works upon the sea On the waves that blow wild and free He splices the ropes and he sets the sail While southwards he roams to the home of the whale And he ne'er thinks of me far behind Or the torments that rage in my mind He is mine for only part of the year Then I'm left all alone with only my tears All ye ladies that smell of wild roe Thank ye of your perfume to wear a man goes Thank ye all the wives and the babies that yearn For the man ne'er returned from hunting the sperm Oh my love he works upon the sea On the waves that blow wild and free He splices the ropes and he sets the sail While southwards he roams to the home of the whale Please fill in the fields below and click SUBMIT to send it to your friend.
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