Where the
ocean breezes play,
Rosie met a lad one day,
he invited her to take a row.
As he jumped into the boat,
someone handed her a note,
and it read here's something
you should know.
He is just a little sailor chic,
takes a different girlie out each week.
If he gets too sentimental,
row, row, Rosie, Rosie,
row for the shore.
Even though he's sweet and gentle,
row, row, Rosie,
don't let him rock the boat.
It's mighty hard to float out on the ocean,
a kiss in the dark.
Sometimes it's worse
than the bite of a shark.
So let your conscience be your guide
and row, Rosie.
Rosie, row for the shore.
Rosie's tender heart was stirred
as she read each little word.
It was just like music to her ears.
She had longed to meet a sheik,
who was not afraid to speak.
It had been her dream for
many years.
Rosie rowed,
but not towards the shore.
She forgot those words forevermore.
If he gets too sentimental,
row, Rosie.
Rosie rowed for the shore.
Even though he's sweet and gentle,
row, row, Rosie.
No use to shout or squawk,
you can't get out and walk.
You may be youthful
and chock -full of hope,
but you won't float,
you're not a ivory soap.
My brother was a sailor once,
so row, Rosie, Rosie,
row for the shore.
Don't be too brave,
it's much better to weep.
Many brave hearts
are asleep in the deep.
My brother was a sailor once,
so row, Rosie, Rosie,
row for the shore.
Thank you.