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
