Crashing through the waves,
When the wind is howling, Drifting along on the calm blue sea,
When the sun shines brightly.
Fish leaping out of the cold salty water,
The chill of the breeze in my face,
I can smell the salt tingling in my nose, The shivers down my spine are cold.
Heave and haul the ropes,
Sweep the decks, Never stop,
My last look at land.
Falmouth is disappearing, Pendennis is shrinking, Land has nearly gone,
Goodbye Cornwall.
By Reilly McCormick