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We just lost sight of the Queensport light down the bay before us,
And the wind has blown some cold today with just a wee touch of the snow;
Along the shore from Lazy Head hard abeam Half Island,
But tonight we'll let the anchor go down in Fogarty's Cove.
My Sally's like the raven's wing, her hair is like her mother's,
With hands that make quick work of a chore, and the eyes like the top of a stove;
At supper time she'll walk the beach wrapped in my old duffle,
With her eyes upon the masthead reach down in Fogarty's Cove.
She will walk the sandy shore so plain, watch the combers roll in,
Till we come to Wild Rose Chance again down in Fogarty's Cove;
She will walk the sandy shore so plain, watch the combers roll in,
Till we come to Wild Rose Chance again down in Fogarty's Cove.
She cries when I'm away to sea, nags me when I'm with her,
She'd rather I had a government job or maybe go on the dole;
But I love the waves as she turns about and noses to the channel,
My Sally keeps a supper and a bed for me down in Fogarty's Cove.
And she will walk the sandy shore so plain, watch the combers roll in,
Till we come to Wild Rose Chance again down in Fogarty's Cove;
She will walk the sandy shore so plain, watch the combers roll in,
Till we come to Wild Rose Chance again down in Fogarty's Cove.
