My Donald he works on the sea   Where the waves they blow wild and free   He splices the ropes, he sets the sail.   Southward he goes, in search of the whale      He never thinks of me left behind   Nor the torments that rage in my mind   He's mine for only half part of the year   Then leaves me behiínd, with nothing but a tear      Oh you ladies who smell the wild rose   Think for the perfume to where a man goes   Think of the women, the children that yearn   For men never return from hunting the sperm      Oh my Donald he works on the sea   Where the waves they blow wild and free   He splices the ropes, he sets the sail.   Southward he goes, in search of the whale