Round Cape Horn Gale Huntington/Peter Bellamy

Round Cape Horn the young men go,

When the young men go away,

Then all the young girls they dress up neat

And go a-walking down the street,

Ri-fol-day, fol-de-riddle-day

Ri-fol ri-fol fol-de-riddle-day

Now far away are the young men gone,

They're far from their fields and they're all alone,

They're wishing to God that they'd never been born,

To go a-sailing round Cape Horn,

When those young men they come home,

This is the story they do hear,

“Come along with me, you need not fear,

For no-one has courted me this year”

Then fine false smiles they likes for to wear,

With their long false curls and their long false hair,

White satin slippers with a silken bow,

They take these young men all in tow,