Oh, give us a home far beyond the blue sky,
Where storms and cyclones are unknown,
And there by life's strand, we'll clasp with our glad hands
God's children in a heavenly home.
Oh, listen today in a story I tell,
In sadness and tear dimmed eye,
Of a dreadful cyclone that came this way,
And it blew our schoolhouse away.
Rye Cove, (Rye Cove), Rye Cove, (Rye Cove),
The place of my childhood and home,
Where in life's early morn I once loved to roam,
But now it's so silent and lone.
When the cyclone appeared, it darkened the air,
And the lightning flashed over the sky,
And the children all cried, "Don't take us away,
And spare us to go back home."
There were mothers so dear and fathers the same,
That came to this horrible scene,
Searching and crying, each found her own child,
Dying on a pillow of stone.