Tamanho do texto:
The boat lGies South Dof Ailsa CGraig in the waningC of the Glight,D
There's Cthirty Dmen in GLendalCfit to Gmake our Cburdens Glight,
And there's Dthirty horse at GHazelholm, with the Chalters Gon their Dheids,
All Cset this Dnight uGpon yon hCeight, if Gwind and Cwater sGpeeds.
SEmmugglers drink of the FGrenchman's wine,
And the Emdarkest night is the sGmuggler's Dtime.
ACway we rGun from the Emexcise man,
It's a sGmuggler's life for Cme, it's a sGmuggler's Dlife for Gme.
Oh, lass ye hae a cosy bed and cattle ye have ten,
Can ye no live a lawful life and live wi' lawful men?
But must I live with hamely goods when there`s foreign gear sae fine
Must I drink at the waterside, and France sae full of wine?
O well, I'd like to see ye Kate with the baby on thy knee
But my heart is now with the gallant crew that plough through the angry see
The bitter gales, the tightest sales, the sheltered bay our goal
It's a wayward life, it's the smugglers strife, it's the joy of the smugglers soul.
And when at last the sun comes up and the cargo's safely stored,
Like sinless saints to church we'll go, God's mercy to afford,
And there's champagne fine for communion wine, and the parson drinks it too
With a sly wink prays: "-Forgive these men, for they know not what they do!"
Rodrigo ~BoB~(email protected)
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