March, 8, 1990: Two months later.. A group of islands appeared at the

horizon...only a few days to go?...Maybe...and under a dark-blue sky

in the Southern Pacific they were sitting together for the last time...



Hey Harry McCullough

Come sing us a song

'bout the highlands so misty and green

Your song about Sally the hills and the rain

We never will see again



When I was a tiny young highland boy

In Scotland the green the green

I played in the hills with my Sally Mary

Winners and losers we've been



She was riding a pony of silk and white

And I rode a wooden stick

We hounded the horses and we followed the birds

And grew up as you'd say in "Gluck"



I called her Sally my love

And she said Harry my man

As we lay at the Mulltire lake

Entwined in the night forever young

Until the morning came



And when we grew older

And the grass no more green

The lake lost its clear blue shade

I left her for sailing the mighty Sea

Ooh Sally our love it did fade



I called her Sally my love

And she said Harry my man

As we lay at the Mulltire lake

Entwined in the night forever young

Until the morning came