I am sailing away in the morning
Is there something I can send you
Come find the place that I'll be landing
No, there's nothing you can send me,
There is nothing I wish to be owning
Just carry yourself back to me
unspoiled, from across that
Oh, but I just thought you might
Made of silver, or golden
Either from the mountains of Madrid
Or from the coast of Barcelona
Oh if I had stars from the
Oh, but I might be gone for a long,
And it's only that I'm asking
Is there something I can send
Oh, can, how can you ask me again?
'Cause this ain't a thing
I would want again tomorrow
Oh, I got a letter on a lonesome day
It was from her ship sailing
back again; it depends on
Well, if you, my love, must think that way
I'm sure your mind is roaming
take heed of the western wind
And take heed of the stormy weather
And yes, there's something
Spanish boots of Spanish leather