Wreck Of The Julie Plante

On wan dark night on de Lake St. Clair
De winí she blow, blow, blow
Aní de crew of de wood scow Julie Plante
Got scarí and run below.
For de winí she blow like hurricane,
Byín bye she blow some more,
Aní de scow busí up jusí off Grosse Pointe
Ten acres from de shore.

De captain walk on de froní deck,
He walk on de hiní deck, too;
Aní he call de crew up from de holí
Aní he call de cook also.
De cook sheís name was Rosie
She comí from Montreal
Was chamber-maid on lumber barge
On de beeg Lachine Canal.

De night was dark like wan black cat,
De wave run high and fasí
Wíen de captain take hees poor Rosie
Aní lash her to de masí.
Aní den he take de life preserve
Aní jump off in de lake,
Sayín ĎAu revoir ma Rosie dear,
I go drown for your sake.í

Nexí morniní veree earlee,
Ďbout half pasí two-tíree-four,
De captain, scow, aní poor Rosie
Was corpses on de shore.
For de winí she blow like hurricane,
Aní den she blow some more,
Aní de scow busí up jusí off Grosse Pointe
Ten acres from de shore.

Now, all good wood scow sailormen,
Take warniní by dat storm,
Aní go marree some nice French girl,
Aní leev on wan beeg farm.
De winí may blow like hurricane,
Aní sípose she blow some more,
You canít get drown on Lake St. Clair
So long you stay on shore.