My Donal Songtext

He never thinks of me far behind

Or the torments that rage in my mind

He's mine for only part of the year

And left all alone wishing his face is near



And ye ladies that smell of wild rose

Think you for your essence to wherein men go

Think you of the wives and the lovers that yearn

Were men that return from hunting the spur


My donal he works on the sea

On the waves that blow wild and free

He splices the ropes then he sets the sails

While southwards he goes to the home of the whales