Annabelle Lee
Come hither me friends and hear me
Relate a sorry refrain
About the lot of an Irish lad
Upon the Northern Main
No matter your inclination to sail the briny sea
Just steer your course as far as you can
Away from the Annabelle Lee
One morning as I was a strolling to take the Dublin air
A gent did chance to offer to me
A tankard of English Ale
No Irishman true would spurn such a thing
Good drinks are rare and few
And though t'was but a single draft
It nearly me senses unglued
Said he me Lad you seem fearfully pale
And jumbly in the knees
But I've a sovereign remedy out upon the open seas
An excellent man and a generous soul
His heart so fine and pure
He summoned a sailor friend of his
To effect for me the cure
Come hither me friends and hear me
Relate a sorry refrain
About the lot of an Irish lad
Upon the Northern Main
No matter your inclination to sail the briny sea
Just steer your course as far as you can
Away from the Annabelle Lee
And shortly it t'was I found myself
With fellows from his ship
Two brawny tars held close to me
All for fear that I should slip
They kept me within their good company
Till out at sea we was
T'was then they read me their articles
And signed me up to their cause
And such was the life of fine leisure
That they did bid me keep
The only toil they asked of me
Was to tend the Captains sheep
T'was two ewes he had in their pens below
For mutton, it was said
Though never I saw them rendered up
And sandwiched between biscuits or bread
On nights whenever the sea was calm
And I was in the sack
I'd hear me mates going down below
To visit poor Maudy and Black
And so each by each in pairs they'd come
And each by each return
With faces lit by such joyful smiles
Transfiguring all in their turn
And then one fine day the captain came
To give me the straight report
He told me what sailors did for fun
And showed me his nightly sport
The very next day we put into shore
And over the side, I leaped
I've still no use for their English Ales
Or Limeys and sea-going sheep
Come hither me friends and hear me
Relate a sorry refrain
About the lot of an Irish lad
Upon the Northern Main
No matter your inclination to sail the briny sea
Just steer your course as far as you can
Away from the Annabelle Lee
Relate a sorry refrain
About the lot of an Irish lad
Upon the Northern Main
No matter your inclination to sail the briny sea
Just steer your course as far as you can
Away from the Annabelle Lee
One morning as I was a strolling to take the Dublin air
A gent did chance to offer to me
A tankard of English Ale
No Irishman true would spurn such a thing
Good drinks are rare and few
And though t'was but a single draft
It nearly me senses unglued
Said he me Lad you seem fearfully pale
And jumbly in the knees
But I've a sovereign remedy out upon the open seas
An excellent man and a generous soul
His heart so fine and pure
He summoned a sailor friend of his
To effect for me the cure
Come hither me friends and hear me
Relate a sorry refrain
About the lot of an Irish lad
Upon the Northern Main
No matter your inclination to sail the briny sea
Just steer your course as far as you can
Away from the Annabelle Lee
And shortly it t'was I found myself
With fellows from his ship
Two brawny tars held close to me
All for fear that I should slip
They kept me within their good company
Till out at sea we was
T'was then they read me their articles
And signed me up to their cause
And such was the life of fine leisure
That they did bid me keep
The only toil they asked of me
Was to tend the Captains sheep
T'was two ewes he had in their pens below
For mutton, it was said
Though never I saw them rendered up
And sandwiched between biscuits or bread
On nights whenever the sea was calm
And I was in the sack
I'd hear me mates going down below
To visit poor Maudy and Black
And so each by each in pairs they'd come
And each by each return
With faces lit by such joyful smiles
Transfiguring all in their turn
And then one fine day the captain came
To give me the straight report
He told me what sailors did for fun
And showed me his nightly sport
The very next day we put into shore
And over the side, I leaped
I've still no use for their English Ales
Or Limeys and sea-going sheep
Come hither me friends and hear me
Relate a sorry refrain
About the lot of an Irish lad
Upon the Northern Main
No matter your inclination to sail the briny sea
Just steer your course as far as you can
Away from the Annabelle Lee
Credits
Writer(s): David Andrew Simmons
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.