Sandy Fishnets, washed up on the shore
What's she catching, and will she be sore?

Sandy was the prettiest of all
She talked French, she came from Montreal
During chores she never had to help
Sandy got a bed all to herself
We slept in the trailer to the right
Sandy told us stories late at night
She spoke of ships and sailors,
And a sea so big and wide
She had lots of uncles and was always tired

Sandy Fishnets, washed up on the shore
What's she catching, and will she be sore?

How they loved her in those early days
Mrs Bulger let her go away
All her uncles drove her off to play
We would see them kissing on the lake
Time went by and Sandy's all grown up
The lines of uncles dwindled,
And the pirate stories stopped
Then one day Melissa May showed up,
And Sandy had to share a bed with us

And will she be soaring over the sea,
With the wind in her sails and a knife in her teeth?
At the helm of a ship, on its way to a distant shore,
Bermuda or Thailand, an uncharted island,
Sandy, we're all getting older
What will they do with us,
When they are through with us?
Sandy, what are we sailing for?

Christmas morning, 1993,
Presents waiting underneath the tree
There's a box for me, a box for me
No gift for poor old Sandy to be seen
We found Sandy sobbing quietly
Uncle Gerald said he liked Christine
Mrs Bulgar said she had to leave
Three days later, she was gone,
The day she turned thirteen

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., TUNECORE INC, TuneCore Inc.
Writer(s): Amanda Palmer, Jason Webley