Four strong winds that blow lonely, seven seas that run high, all these things that don't change, come what may,
But our good times are all gone and I'm bound for moving on. I'll look for you if I'm ever back this way.
Guess I'll go out to Alberta weathers good there in the fall. Got some friends that I can to working for.
Still, I wish you'd change your mind if I'd ask you one more time, but we've been through that a hundred times before.
If I get there 'fore the snow flies and if things are going good, you could meet me if I sent you down the fare.
But by then it would be winter, nothing much for you to do and the wind it sure blows cold way out there.