Song | My Donald |
Artist | Mary Black |
Album | Mary Black |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Traditional | |
Oh my Donald he works on the sea | |
On the waves that blow wild and free | |
He splices the ropes and he sets the sails | |
While southward he rolls to the home of the whale | |
And he ne'er thinks o' me far behind | |
Nor the torments that rage in my mind | |
He's mine for only part of the year | |
And I'm left all alone with only my tears | |
Ye ladies that smell of wild rose | |
Think ye for your perfume to where a man goes | |
Think ye o' the wives and the babies that yearn | |
For a man ne'er returning from hunting the sperm | |
My Donald he works on the sea | |
On the waves that blow wild and free | |
He splices the ropes and sets the sails | |
While southward he rolls to the home of the whale |
zuo ci : Traditional | |
Oh my Donald he works on the sea | |
On the waves that blow wild and free | |
He splices the ropes and he sets the sails | |
While southward he rolls to the home of the whale | |
And he ne' er thinks o' me far behind | |
Nor the torments that rage in my mind | |
He' s mine for only part of the year | |
And I' m left all alone with only my tears | |
Ye ladies that smell of wild rose | |
Think ye for your perfume to where a man goes | |
Think ye o' the wives and the babies that yearn | |
For a man ne' er returning from hunting the sperm | |
My Donald he works on the sea | |
On the waves that blow wild and free | |
He splices the ropes and sets the sails | |
While southward he rolls to the home of the whale |
zuò cí : Traditional | |
Oh my Donald he works on the sea | |
On the waves that blow wild and free | |
He splices the ropes and he sets the sails | |
While southward he rolls to the home of the whale | |
And he ne' er thinks o' me far behind | |
Nor the torments that rage in my mind | |
He' s mine for only part of the year | |
And I' m left all alone with only my tears | |
Ye ladies that smell of wild rose | |
Think ye for your perfume to where a man goes | |
Think ye o' the wives and the babies that yearn | |
For a man ne' er returning from hunting the sperm | |
My Donald he works on the sea | |
On the waves that blow wild and free | |
He splices the ropes and sets the sails | |
While southward he rolls to the home of the whale |