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The boat lies South of Ailsa Craig in the waning of the light,
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There's thirty men in Lendalfit to make our burdens light,
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And there's thirty horse at Hazelholm, with the halters on their heids,
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All set this night upon yon height, if wind and water speeds.
Em G
Smugglers drink of the Frenchman's wine,
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And the darkest night is the smuggler's time.
C G Em
Away we run from the excise man,
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It's a smuggler's life for me, it's a smuggler's life for me.
Oh, lass ye hae a cosy bed and cattle ye have ten,
Can ye no live a lawful life and live wi' lawful men?
But must I live with hamely goods when there`s foreign gear sae fine
Must I drink at the waterside, and France sae full of wine?
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O well, I'd like to see ye Kate with the baby on thy knee
But my heart is now with the gallant crew that plough through the angry see
The bitter gales, the tightest sales, the sheltered bay our goal
It's a wayward life, it's the smugglers strife, it's the joy of the smugglers soul.
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And when at last the sun comes up and the cargo's safely stored,
Like sinless saints to church we'll go, God's mercy to afford,
And there's champagne fine for communion wine, and the parson drinks it too
With a sly wink prays: '-Forgive these men, for they know not what they do!'
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Smuggler's life from me! Hasta siempre!
Rodrigo ~BoB~([email protected])