 (written by Bob Hallett)
It's of a bold young smuggler
From Fortune he did sail
He rode the waves from St. Pierre
And he never saw the jail
He filled her up with contraband
Perfume, smokes, and rum
He hoped the bog was thick enough
To make another run
CHORUS:
You can still see the sight on a winter's night
Of his wake in the light of the moon
If the wind turns right and you don't take fright
You can small that French perfume
But the Mountie boat was waiting
As he crawled up Fortune Bay
And when they hit the spotlight
It was like the light of day
He didn't bring her head 'round
When they told him to heave to
He opened up the engines
And he ran for Spanish Room
CHORUS
They said they heard him laughing
With the Mounties closing in
His engines screaming murder
And his face set in a grin
The seagulls started lifting
Like an angry banshee choir
He hit the rocks at 50 clicks
And the sky lit up with fire
It's of a bold young smuggler
From Fortune he did sail
He rode the waves from St. Pierre
And he never saw the jail
And when it's cold and foggy
On the rocks near Spanish Room
They say you hear him laughing
And you smell that French perfume
CHORUS (x2)
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