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All around old Cape Horn |
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Ships of the line, ships of the morn |
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Some who wish they'd never been born |
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They are the ghosts of Cape Horn |
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Fal deral da riddle de rum |
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With a rim dim diddy and a rum dum dum |
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Sailing away at the break of dawn |
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They are the ghosts of Cape Horn |
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See them all in sad repair |
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Demons dance everywhere |
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Southern gales, tattered sails |
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And none to tell the tales |
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Come all of you rustic old sea dogs |
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Who follow the great Southern Cross |
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You we're rounding the Horn |
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In the eye of a storm |
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When ya lost 'er one day |
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And you read all your letters |
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From oceans away |
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Then you took them to the bottom of the sea |
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All around old Cape Horn |
|
Ships of the line, ships of the morn |
|
Those who wish they'd never been born |
|
They are the ghosts of Cape Horn |
|
Fal deral da riddle de rum |
|
With a rim dim diddy and a rum dum dum |
|
Sailing away at the break of dawn |
|
They are the ghosts of Cape Horn |
|
Come all you old sea dogs from Devon |
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Southampton, Penzance and Kinsale |
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You were caught by the chance |
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Of a sailor's last dance |
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It was not meant to be |
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And ya read all your letters |
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Cried [Incomprehensible] away |
|
Then ya took them to the bottom of the sea |
|
All around old Cape Horn |
|
Ships of the line, ships of the morn |
|
Some who wish they'd never been born |
|
They are the ghosts of Cape Horn |
|
Fal deral da riddle de rum |
|
With a rim dim diddy and a rum dum dum |
|
Sailing away at the break of dawn |
|
They are the ghosts of Cape Horn |
