March, 8, 1990: Two months later.. A group of islands appeared at the
|
horizon...only a few days to go?...Maybe...and under a dark-blue sky
|
in the Southern Pacific they were sitting together for the last time...
|
|
Hey Harry McCullough
|
Come sing us a song
|
'bout the highlands so misty and green
|
Your song about Sally the hills and the rain
|
We never will see again
|
|
When I was a tiny young highland boy
|
In Scotland the green the green
|
I played in the hills with my Sally Mary
|
Winners and losers we've been
|
|
She was riding a pony of silk and white
|
And I rode a wooden stick
|
We hounded the horses and we followed the birds
|
And grew up as you'd say in "Gluck"
|
|
I called her Sally my love
|
And she said Harry my man
|
As we lay at the Mulltire lake
|
Entwined in the night forever young
|
Until the morning came
|
|
And when we grew older
|
And the grass no more green
|
The lake lost its clear blue shade
|
I left her for sailing the mighty Sea
|
Ooh Sally our love it did fade
|
|
I called her Sally my love
|
And she said Harry my man
|
As we lay at the Mulltire lake
|
Entwined in the night forever young
|
Until the morning came
|
|
-----------------
|
Sally Mary
|
| Dan McCaferty |
