(original title; My Donald)
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My Donald he works on the sea
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On the waves that blow wild and free
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He splices the ropes and sets the sails
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While southward he rolls to the home of the whale
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He ne'er thinks o' me far behind
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Or the torments that rage in my mind
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He's mine for only half part of the year
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Then I'm left all alone wi' nocht but a tear
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Ye ladies wha' smell o' wild rose
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Think ye for your perfume tae whaur a man goes
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Think ye o' the wives and the bairnies wha' yearn
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For a man ne'er returning frae hunting the sperm
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My Donald he works on the sea
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On the waves that blow wild and free
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He splices the ropes and sets the sails
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While southward he rolls to the home of the whale
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Donald-O
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| Sinead O'Connor |
