Sarah Blasko - Spanish Ladies | Текст песни

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• Sarah Blasko
• Spanish Ladies

Farewell and adieu to you Spanish ladies
Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain
For we have received orders
For to sail to old England
We hope in a short time to see you again

We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues
we hove our ship to with the wind at the sou'west boys
Then we hove our ship to deep soundings to take
Twas 45 fathoms with a white sandy bottom
So we squared our main yard
And up channel did make
We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues
Now let every man drink off his full bumper
Let every man drink off his full glass
We'll drink and be jolly
And drown melancholy
And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass

We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues

The first land we sighted was called the Dodman
Next Ram Head off Plymouth Start Portland and the Wight
We sailed then by Beachy
By Fairly and Dover
Then bore away for the South Foreland light
We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues

Then the signal was made
For the grand fleet to Anker
And all in the Downs that night for to lie
Let go your shank painter
Let go your cat
See clear your shank painters
Hawl all your clew garnets let tack and sheets fly

We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues

Now let every man drink off his full bumper
Let every man drink off his full glass
We'll drink and be jolly
And drown melancholy
And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass

We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar along the salt seas
Until we strike soundings
In the Channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis thirty-five leagues

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