John Wallace

The smoke is a-blowing, son And the flames reaching high to the sky It was there for the knowing, son That the fever was clear in his eyes He told of the Wallace, son Taken over by hellish blue death It's a wonder he made it here But the stables they suited him best Oh, and his body's aching Oh, and my heart is breaking Oh, not even God could save him Oh Can you give me a minute? I need a place to lay I've been swimming from the Wallace So many a mile away And I know I was in it I know that I'm not well If you give me a minute, sir The stories I could tell (Ooh) the stories I could tell (Ooh) the stories I could tell (Ooh) the stories I could tell, ooh We sailed here from Liverpool On a journey of forty-two days The fever came early on And the captain, he couldn't be saved They were turned away in Georgetown As the word of the trouble had spread By the time they had run aground Most of the shipmates were dead Oh, and his body's aching Oh, and my heart is breaking Oh, not even God could save him Can you give me a minute? I need a place to lay I've been swimming from the Wallace So many a mile away And I know I was in it I know that I'm not well If you give me a minute, sir The stories I could tell The stories I could tell The stories I could tell The stories I could tell The Gulf of St. Lawrence, son Sure makes an icy cold grave The Wallace is in it, son And the people whose passage she gave He cheated the water, son But the fever has sure taken hold The smoke is a-blowing, son A prayer we should say for his soul Can you give me a minute? I need a place to lay I've been swimming from the Wallace So many a mile away And I know I was in it, sir I know that I'm not well If you give me a minute, sir The stories I could tell (Ooh) the stories I could tell (Ooh) oh, the stories I could tell (Ooh) the stories I could tell (Ooh) oh, the stories I could tell The stories I could tell The stories I could tell The stories I could tell