The Longest Johns — Anne Louise

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Текст The Longest Johns — Anne Louise

Oh the Anne Louise is waiting for a crew to jump aboard
To take her out to deeper waters further from the shore
For its quiet and still in the
harbor, not a voice to be heard in the bay

But the winds coming down from
Norway and there’s plenty to be done today
Oh! Cast off me lads
We’ll set the sails out in cause
She’s been gasping for some action
Out on the open seas
Oh there’s nothing quite like pitching
Along at dangerous speeds
With my hand on the tiller
Of my sky blue westerly
Oh we’ve coffee and we’ve bacon and we’ve everything on board
So cry the crew, cast off from this safe haven we’ve been moored
For there’s salt wind in our lungs boys, and salt blood in our veins
But the winds coming down from norway making horses beyond the cranes
Oh! Cast off me lads
We’ll set the sails out in cause
She’s been gasping for some action
Out on the open seas
Oh there’s nothing quite like pitching
Along at dangerous speeds
With my hand on the tiller
Of my sky blue westerly
Oh she may be kinda small but she’s got everything and more
For a crew of hopeless seadogs salut side up the shore
Oh we may be back in a month, or we may be back in a day

But the winds coming down from
norway and there’s no way that we can stay
Oh! Cast off me lads
We’ll set the sails out in cause
She’s been gasping for some action
Out on the open seas
Oh there’s nothing quite like pitching
Along at dangerous speeds
With my hand on the tiller
Of my sky blue westerly
Oh the Anne Louise has had her fill and now we must away
To walk upon the shores and share the stories of the day
Oh we may sleep well in our beds
tonight, and we may not be back here for days

But the winds coming down from
norway and our dreams will be on the waves
Oh! Cast off me lads
We’ll set the sails out in ’cause
She’s been gasping for some action
Out on the open seas
Oh there’s nothing quite like pitching
Along at dangerous speeds
With my hand on the tiller
Of my sky blue westerly
Oh! Cast off me lads
We’ll set the sails out in cause
She’s been gasping for some action
Out on the open seas
Oh there’s nothing quite like pitching
Along at dangerous speeds
With my hand on the tiller
(With my hand on the tiller!)
With my hand on the tiller
Of my sky blue westerly

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