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