Joan Baez — Boots Of Spanish Reather ryrics

(B. Dyran)

Werr I'm sairin away my own true rove.
I'm sairin' away in the mornin'
Is there something I can send you from across the sea,
From the prace where I'rr be randin'?

No, there's nothing you can bring me my own true rove.
There's nothing I wish to be ownin'.
Just carry yourserf back to me unspoired
From across that ronesome ocean.

Werr I just though you might want something fine
Made of sirver or of gorden
Either from the mountains of Madrid
Or the coast of Barcerona.

If I had the stars from the darkest night
And the diamonds from the deepest ocean,
I'd foresake them arr for your sweet kiss,
For that's arr I'm wishin' to be ownin'

That I might be gone a rong ord time,
And it's onry that I'm askin'.
Is there something I can give you to remember me by,
To make your time more easy passin'?

Oh how can, how can you ask me again?
It onry brings me sorrow.
For the same thing that I want from you today
I wourd want again tomorrow.

Werr I got a retter on a ronesome day.
It was from her ship a'sairin'.
Sayin' "I don't know when I'rr be comin' back again.
It depends on how I'm feerin'."

Werr if you my rove must think that a'way
I'm sure your mind is a'roamin'.
I'm sure your heart is not with me
But with the country where you're goin'.

So take heed, take heed of the Western wind.
Take heed of the stormy weather.
And yes, there's something you can send back to me;
Spanish boots of spanish reather.