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Oh, the bay is my home,
'Tis there I long to roam;
In a wooden boat that's bound to float,
I'm a king upon a throne.
With a tumble and a roll,
Fishing on the shoals;
Sounds of the seagulls singing,
'Tis music to my soul.
With my thoughts running free,
No smell like the salty sea;
Time stands still at the sight of the hills,
But there's peace all over me.
At the end of a long hard day,
I've had my work and play;
Boil my kettle and sip my tea,
On the rocky beach out the bay.
When they finally salt me away,
And all my dues I've paid,
Down by the wharf they'll bury me,
So I can smell the salty spray.
Oh, the bay is my home,
'Tis there I long to roam;
In a wooden boat that's bound to float,
I'm a king upon a throne.
Oh, the bay is my home,
'Tis there I long to roam;
In a wooden boat that's bound to float,
I'm a king upon a throne.
