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Cape St. Mary's 
Cape St.Mary's 
Take me back to my western boat Let me fish off Cape St. Mary's Where the hog-down sail And the Fog horns wail With my friends the Browns and the Clearys Let me fish off Cape St. Mary's 
Let me feel my dory lift To the broad Atlantic combers Where the tide rip swirls And the wild ducks whirl And old Neptune calls the numbers. 'Neath the wild Atlantic combers 
Let me sail up Golden Bay With my oilskins all a-streaming From the thunder squalls when I hauled my trawls. And my old Cape Ann a-gleaming With my oilskins all a-streaming. 
And let me view that ragged shore With the beaches all a-glisten With the caplin spawn Where from dusk till dawn You bait your trawn, and you listen To the undertow a-hissin'. 
And when I reach that last big shoal Where the groundswells break asunder, Where the wild sands roll to the surge's toll Let me be a man and take it When my dory fails to make it. 
Oh take me back to that snug green cove Where the seas roll up their thunder There let me rest In the Earth's cool breast Where the stars shine out their wonder And the seas roll up their thunder. 
Written by Otto P. Kelland, Quality Music, Inc., PROC. Recorded by Stan Rogers in 1982 on For the Family, Folk Traditions, R002. DC