The Rosey Islands were a place of plenty they
There were two women for every bale of hay
But when the sea it called for every boy with spine
The best do not return until they're lame and blind
The old men say the waves will one day reclaim them...
"Away from these Rosey Islands!"
The brave they ply their trade over deep oceans
Where "Men aren't made of lofty notions!"
uh-uh
Leave your fears behind this isn't for the meek
When the waves seek death wake a man from any sleep
The wives they store a black dress and fear the worse
They become widows while praying in a church!
