O Lord! I've a heavy, sighing heart
My love is far away from me tonight
I'm away in the north at the Cape of Norway
While she's at Loch an Fhir Mhaoil.
Though it is enjoyable to be sailing
I cannot say I'm enjoying it just now
I would rather be in Bosta
Planting the corn in the field.
If only I could be at home
Both summer and spring
I would never allow another man
To have my love without a fight.
Writer(s): Traditional, Christine Mary Primrose, Malcolm Macaulay
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