My lady she is waiting, for her man to come back from sea
Her heart it burns, for him
Like that wee chippy
Well she might be like a goujon
She's crispy, she's battered she's beat
Working hard on a family farm, for insufficient meat
But in her dreams she's carting
Her man is there, to ground her
In stormy weather, he keeps her tethered
He's a regular Waid Anchor
Well I'm waiting on my husband
Coming back from sea
He's a gambling sorta man, got blood on his blue jeans
Well he ain't no Charlie Bronson
No Eastwood, no Norris, or Dean
He's a Rock and Roller, short man disorder, been like that since 18
But in my dreams, we're carting
Dance all night, to Samba
We're buck-to-buck, in a pickup truck
He's my regular Waid Anchor
Well I might not be famous
I'm a drunk, a droll, a chancer
I'm the sweetest guy, a cherry pie
I'm your Regular Waid Anchor
I'm the sweetest guy
Cherry pie
I'm your Regular old Waid Anchor
(Take it away now boy take it away)