I was the shiralee, always following Always discontent, always hollering But what could I do When I was lonely? But turn back to you Like the sailor drawn by the siren A suicide deep in your arms So what did I do When I was lonely? But turn back to you To die in your arms And skin is paper Hand writing's messy I can't read a letter That says goodbye I was the Shiralee, always following Always discontent, always hollering So what did I do When I was lonely? But turn back to you To die in your arms