Oh fare you well, my own true love.
Fare you well, my dear,
For the ship is waiting and the wind blows free,
And I'm bound again for the sea, Mary Ann.
And I'm bound again for the sea, Mary Ann.
Oh don't you see the little dove, setting on a pine,
Mourning the loss of her own true love,
As I will mourn for mine, my dear Mary Ann.
As I will mourn for mine, my dear Mary Ann.
The lobster boiling in the pot, and the crayfish on the line,
They're suffering long, but it's nothing like
The ache I bear for thee, my dear Mary Ann.
The ache I bear for thee, my dear Mary Ann.
Oh had I but a flask of gin, and sugar here for two,
And a great big bowl for to mix it in,
I would mix a drink for you, my dear Mary Ann.
I would mix a drink for you, my dear Mary Ann.
Oh fare you well, my own true love.
Fare you well, my dear,
For the ship is waiting and the wind blows free,
And I'm bound again for the sea, Mary Ann.
And I'm bound again for the sea, Mary Ann.