Spanish Ladies - Sarah Blasko
Farewell and adieu to you Spanish Ladies
Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain
For we've received orders for to sail to old England
And we hope in a short time to see you again
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
We hove our ship to with the wind from sou'west boys
We hove our ship to deep soundings to take
'Twas forty-five fathoms with a white sandy bottom
So we squared our main yard and up channel did make
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
Now let every man drink off his full bumper
And let every man drink off his full glass
We'll drink and be merry and drown melancholy
And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
The first land we sighted was call-ed the Dodman
Next Rame Head off Plymouth Start Portland and Wight
We sailed then by Beachy by Fairlight and Dover
Then bore straight away for the South Foreland light
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
Then the signal was made for the grand fleet to anchor
And all in the Downs that night for to lie
Let go your shank painter let go your cat
Haul up your clewgarnets let tacks and sheets fly
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
Now let every man drink off his full bumper
And let every man drink off his full glass
We'll drink and be merry and drown melancholy
And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt seas
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues
